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EDITOR'S   PREFACE. 


Nearly  twenty  years  ago  these  Memoirs  were  first  given  to 
the  public,  comprised  in  four  large  octavo  volumes,  each  con- 
taining above  four  hundred  pages,  and  costing  a  considerable 
sum  of  money.  At  the  sale  of  Mr.  Bentley's  copyrights,  this 
book,  with  many  others,  became  the  property  of  the  present 
publishers,  who,  mindful  of  former  literary  services  (and  thinking, 
perhaps,  that  the  names  of  *'  Mathews  and  Yates,"  formerly  so 
prolific  of  entertainment,  might  again  be  brought  together  for 
the  amusement  of  the  public),  placed  it  in  my  hands  with  a  view 
to  the  abridgment  and  condensation  necessary  to  its  publication 
in  a  cheaper  and  more  popular  form. 

The  genial  author  of  "  Peter  Priggins"  mentions  a  waiter  at 
the  Star  Hotel,  Oxford,  who  boasted  of  being  able  to  pack  a 
quart  of  wine  into  a  pint  decanter,  and  in  my  compilation  of 
this  edition  my  endeavour  has  been  to  emulate  the  extraordinary 
compressive  powers  of  this  worthy  Ganymede,  straining  off  the 
"  thick"  and  rejecting  the  lees,  but  conscientiously  preserving 
the  real  essence  and  bouquet  of  the  liquor. 

That  the  late  Mr.  Mathews  possessed  powers  of  graphic 
description  in  no  ordinary  degree  is  evinced  by  his  brief  auto- 
biography and  by  his  admirable  letters ;  the  former  I  have 
scrupulously  left  untouched,  and  of  the  latter  I  have  omitted 

^^    207 


none  but  sucli  as  were  purely  domestic  in  their  cbaracter,  and  the 
publication  of  which,  while  justified  by  the  close  relationship  and 
affection  of  the  original  editor,  would  not  now  possess  the 
slightest  interest  to  the  general  public. 

All  that  may  be  good  in  this  compilation  must  be  ascribed  to 
the  industry  and  energy  of  Mrs.  Mathews,  the  original  editor, 
my  own  share  in  the  production  having  been  limited  to  the 
wielding  of  the  well-known  "  pruning-knife,"  the  dovetailing  of 
incidents,  reconciliation  of  dates,  &c.,  in  those  portions  which 
were  retained,  and  the  additign  of  certain  biographical  notes 
which  have  not  the  slightest  claim  to  originality  or  erudition, 
but  which  are  simply  given  for  the  information  of  those  younger 
readers  who,  while  wishing  to  know  some  particulars  of  the 
distinguished  persons  mentioned  in  the  work,  would  be  unwilling 
to  take  any  trouble  in  searching  for  them. 

Nevertheless,  my  task,  though  anything  but  an  ambitious  one, 
has  still  been  a  labour  of  love.  That  I  should  entertain  an 
affection  for  the  drama,  its  professors,  and  all  things  appertaining 
to  it,  is  but  natural :  being  the  son  of  an  actor,  and,  in  the  exer- 
cise of  my  own  pursuits,  being  constantly  thrown  among  persons 
connected  with  the  dramatic  world,  it  would  be  strange  indeed 
if  I  were  not  animated  by  such  sentiments.  And,  despite  the 
mournful  and  constantly  recurring  wail  of  "  decline,"  despite  the 
garrulous  whinings  of  the  impotent,  the  ignorant,  and  the  idle,  I 
firmly  believe  that  this  feeling  is  common  to  a  very  large  pro- 
portion of  the  English  nation,  who  would  be  ready  to  admit  that 
a  clever  and  earnest  actor  has  a  greater  hold  upon  their  sympa- 
thies and  an  easier  access  to  their  inmost  hearts  than  any  man 
,of  equal  talent  in  any  other  acknowledged  profession. 

The  following  records  prove  that  patience,  endurance,  honesty, 
hard  work,  and  a  stout  heart  under  discouragement,  are  requisites 
for  the  histrionic  aspirant,  as  additions  to  his  natural  talent, 
without  the  possession  of  which  none  can  ever  hope  to  succeed. 


EDITOR  S  PREFACE.  V 

Constant  study  and  a  long  course  of  provincial  training  are 
almost  as  necessary  to  the  actor  as  inborn  genius.  All  modern 
examples  go  to  verify  this  dictum ;  and  yet,  because  each  year 
produces  a  certain  number  of  uneducated  young  men,  who  fly  to 
the  stage  as  a  last  resource,  and  who,  having  failed  as  tailors 
and  grocers,  fail  more  dismally  and  more  publicly  as  Claude 
Melnottes  and  Cassios,  we  hear  of  nought  but  the  decline  of  the 
drama  and  the  degradation  of  its  professors ! 

A  perusal  of  this  volume  will  show  that  one  of  the  proscribed 
race  was  courted,  admired,  and  recognised  by  the  first  and  most 
brilliant  men  of  the  day,  not  as  a  buffoon  for  their  amusement, 
but  as  an  equal  and  a  friend. 

Edmund  Yates. 

London,  April,  1860. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  L 

My  determination  to  write  my  life — Birth,  parentage,  and  education ;  life,  cha- 
racter, and  behaviour — My  retentive  memory — My  birth-place — My  grand- 
father and  father — Family  disputes — Fanatic  visitors — My  face  and  figure 
when  a  child—  Hannah  More  and  Garrick — My  school-days — The  school- 
master and  usher — My  precocious  attempts  at  mimicry — A  perambulating 
fishmonger — My  imitation  of  his  queer  cry,  and  his  revenge      .     pp.  1 — 10 

CHAPTER  II. 

Methodist  preachers :  Brothers  Hill,  Durrant,  Huntington,  Berridge — Fanatics' 
Tabernacle  in  Tottenham -court-road — "The  Oven" — Early  bigotry — 
"Wrestling"  —  First  love  —  Musical  mania  —  Incipient  yearnings  after 
popular  applause — Enfield  races pp.  11 — 18 

CHAPTER  III. 

Merchant  Tailors'  School — Flogging — Serjeant  Pell — William  Mathews — Beli- 
gious  experience — Saintly  epistles — Religious  fanaticism — Pious  tracts 
with  odd  titles — Huntington  the  coalheaver,  and  his  miracles — Rowland 
Hill — Popular  preaching pp.  19 — 29 

CHAPTER  IV. 

French  school — Private  theatricals — Master  Elliston — First  visit  to  a  theatre, 
and  its  effect — Literary  attempt — Mr.  John  Litchfield — Major  Topham — 
William  Mathews — "The  Thespian  Magazine" — Editorship — Death  of 
Edwin  the  comedian — Correspondence  with  Mr.  Thomas  Harris,  the  pro- 
prietor of  Covent  Garden  Theatre — Apprenticeship  to  his  father — Macklin 
— First  appearance  on  a  public  stage  with  Mr.  John  Litchfield — Richmond 
at  Richmond — The  Duke  of  Clarence  and  Mrs.  Jordan — Second  appearance 


Vlll  CONTENTS. 

in  public — Canterbury — Last  appearance  in  the  character  of  a  bookseller — 
Introduction  to  the  agent  of  the  Dublin  Theatre— Engagement,  and  depar- 
ture from  home ..." pp.  30 — 46 

CHAPTER' V. 

Early  letters  to  his  friend  Mr.  John  Litchfield— Departure  from  home— Journey 
to  Ireland  —  Dublin  —  Introduction  to  Daly  the  Manager — Mrs.  Wells 
(afterwards  Mrs.  Sumbel)  —  Owenson — Miss  Campion  (afterwards  Mrs. 
Pope) — Miss  Farren — Holman — Honourable  Mrs.  Twisleton — Dishonour- 
able conduct  of  Daly — In  danger -of  being  drowned — An  Irish  Humane 
Society      .     .     .     .  •.     .     .     .     .     .     .   '.     .     .     .     .•    .     pp.  47— 62 

CHAPTER  VL     ',   ,     ' 

Mr.  Mathews  and  Miss  Strong — His  engagement  to  her,  and  his  father's  letter 
to  him  on  the  subject — His  marriage  with  Miss  Strong — Increasing  ambi- 
tion— Application  to  Tate  Wilkinson,  the  York  Patentee — Mr.  Mathews's ' 
visit  to  his  family  in  London — His  reception — Mr.  Mathews's  engagement 
with  Tate  Wilkinson — His  first  interview — His  debut — His  apparent  failure 
and  discouragement     .     .     .     .     .     .     .,    .     .     .     .     .     .     pp.  63 — 76 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Leeds — Prejudice  entertained  there  against  actors — Eudeness  to  female  per- 
formers— Outrage  upon  Mr.  Holman,  and  upon  MissGough — Feeling  towards 
actors  in  Hull — Anecdote — Denman  and  the  landlady — Unpopularity  of  the 
Income-tax — Mr.  Mathews's  whimsical  remonstrance  to  the  Commissioners 
—t Letter  to  Mr.  Litchfield — Tate  Wilkinson's  opinion  of  Murphy's  '*  Life  of 
Garrick" — Mr.  Mathews's  success  at  York — His  fondness  for  attending 
trials — Action  for  killing  a  donkey — Witness  interrogated  by  Counsellors 
Eaine  and  Cockle — Simplicity  of  the  witness — Letter  of  Mr.  William  Mathews 
to  his  brother .    pp.  77 — 86  ■ 

CHAPTER  VIII.  ' 

Mr.  Mathews's  accident  while  performing  at  York — Death  of  his  brother- 
Letter  to  Mr.  Litchfield — Mrs.  Mathews's  illness  and  dying  wishes — Letter 
to  Mr.  Litchfield — Death  of  Mrs.  Mathews — A  remarkable  dream — Letter 
from  Mr.  Colman,  ofi"ering  Mr.  Mathews  an  engagement  in  London — Cor- 
respondence on  the  subject pp.  87 — 99 

CHAPTER  IX. 

George  Colman  at  York — Tate  Wilkinson's  reception  of  him — The  York  per- 
formers— Mr.  Colman's  dramatic  reading^Mr,  Mathews's  second  marriage — 
Wedding  incidents — Miss  De  Camp — Mr.  Colman's  letter  to  Mr.  Mathews — 
Parting  interview  between  Mr.  Mathews  and  Tate  Wilkinson,    pp.  100 — 105 


CONTENTS.  IX 

CHAPTER  X. 

Arrival  in  London  of  Mr. .Mathews  and  his  young  wife — Their  reception  at  the 
paternal  home — Grloom  of  the'  house — Removal  to  Manchester-street — Old 
Mr.  Mathews  listening  to  his  son's  songs  and  stories — Mr.  Mathews's  first 
appearance  in  London — Anecdote  of  Mr,  Cumberland — Letter  from  Tate 
Wilkinson — Mr,  Mathews's  success  in  "  Love  Laughs  at  Locksmiths" — His 
Mr.  Wiggins — His  engagement  at  Liverpool — Letter  from  Mr,  Lewis — His 
prediction — Birth  of  Mr.  Mathews's  son pp.  106 — 111 

CHAPTER  XI. 

Ee-opening  of  the  Haymarket  Theatre — Mr.  Bannister,  Jun. — Illness  of  Mr. 
Mathews's  father — First  appearance  "of  Mr.  Mathews  at  Drury-lane  Theatre 
—  Mr,  Sheridan  reading  the  part  of  Sir  Peter  Teazle — "Sohool  for 
i^'riends" — Mr.  Mathews's  retentive  memory — His  introduction  to  "Ana- 
creon  Moore"— Mr.  Raymond's  proposal  to  Mr.  Mathews  to  turn  book- 
auctioneer pp.  112 — 118 

CHAPTER  XII. 

Mr.  Theodore  Hook's  farce  of  "  Catch  him  who  can" — Letter  from  Mr.  Colman 
-  to  Mr.  Mathews— Ventriloquy — Letter  from  Mr.  Young  to  Mr.  Mathews — 

'  Mr.lVIathews  meets  with  a  severe  accident — His  re-appearance  at  Drury- 
lane  Theatre — Mr,  Mathews's  first  attempt  to  perform  an  "  Entertainment" 
— ^Mr.  James  Smith  and  his  letter — Albinia,  Countess  of  Buckinghamshire — 

.  Mr.  Abraham  G-oldsmidt — Mr.  Mathews's  introduction  to  the  Prince  of 
Wales — The  actors'  dinner  to  Mr,  Sheridan — Mr.  Theodore  Hook's  extempo- 
raneous singing — Letters  from  Mr,  Sheridan  and  Mr,  Colman  to  Mr. 
Mathews^-"  Twig  Hall" — Mr.  Liston — Miss  Mellon  (afterwards  Duchess  of 

-    St.  Alban's) ., •     PP.  119—133 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

*' The  Spanish  Ambassador"  and  his  ** Interpreter."    .     .     ,     pp.134 — 147 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

Mr.  Mathews  in  Maw-ioorm — Origin  of  the  sermon  from  the  screen,  in  '*The 
Hypocrite" — The  Four-in-hand  Club — Farce  of  "  Hit  or  Miss" — Ofi'er  from 
Mr.  Arnold — Re -opening  of  the  Lyceum  Theatre — Cottage  at  Fulham — Pro- 
posal from  Mr.  EUiston — Mr.  Mathews's  reception  at  Liverpool,  pp.148 — 154 

CHAPTER  XV. 

Actors'  lives — Mr.  Mathews's  letters  from  Liverpool  and  Dublin — His  first 
appearance  in  Ireland,  1794 — The  Irish  Warier,  &c.      .     .     pp.155 — 163 


X  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  XYI. 

Provincial  wanderings — Partnership  with  Mr.  Incledon — Dissolution  of  part- 
nership— Re-appearance  at  Haymarket  Theatre — First  appearance  of  Mr. 
Mathews  at  Covent  Grarden,  in  "  Love,  Law,  and  Physic"— Mr.  Mathews's 
imitation  of  Lord  Ellenborough  in  the  character  of  Flexible — The  conse- 
quences— Imitation  of  Mr.  Braham^ — Mr.  Mathews's  imitation  at  Carlton 
House  before  the  Prince  Regent — Mrs.  Jordan pp.  164 — 170 

CHAPTER  XYII. 

Mr.  Mathews  commanded  to  perform  at  Carlton  House— His  previous  visit  to 
that  palace — Disposal  of  the  cottage  intheKing's-road — Mr.  Mathews's  return 
to  town — Letter  from  Mr.  Theodore  Hook,  from  the  Mauritius,  pp.  171 — 179 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

Mr.  Mathews's  severe  accident  in  company  with  Mr.  Terry — Mr.  Colman's 
letter  —  Mr.  Mathews's  re-appearance  at  the  Haymarket  in  "Hocus 
Pocus" — Mr.  Mathews  at  Brighton — His  lameness  incurable — Letter  of  Mr. 
Henry  Harris — Mr.  Mathews's  letters  to  Mrs.  Mathews  from  Birmingham 
and  Stratford-upon-Avon pp.  180 — 186 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

Mr.  Mathews's  return  to  town,  and  appearance  in  the  character  of  Falstaff— 
Whimsical  mistake — Lord  Tamworth — Result  of  a  Grreenwidh  dinner — A 
moral  lesson — Dinuer  at  Long's  with  Mr.  Walter  Scott  and  Lord  Byron — ' 
Mr.  Mathews  leaves  town  with  Mr.  Walter  Scott — The  "Man  on  the  Great 
Horse,"  a  startling  Incident  of  the  road — Letters  of  Mr.  Mathews  from 
Northampton  —  Account  of  his  performance  there  —  Mr.  Mathews  visits 
Warwick  Castle  and  Kenilworth  with  Mr.  Walter  Scott — Indiscreet  dis- 
closure of  the  authorship  of  the  Waverley  novels — Letter  from  Mr.  Mathews 
from  Staffordshire ;  great  theatrical  exertion  ;  curious  epitaphs — Letter 
from  Mr.  Mathews  from  Derbyshire — Invitation  of  Mr.  Mathews  to  Windsor 
Castle  by  Queen  Charlotte — The  Irish  Mathews  and  his  wife,   pp.  187 — 195 

CHAPTER  XX. 

Mr.  Mathews  at  the  Haymarket  Theatre — Unnecessary  offers  of  assistance — 
Letter  to  Mrs.  Mathews  from  Worthing — Unintentional  compliment  — 
Methodistical  playgoers— Visit  to  France  by  Mr.  Maihews  and  Mr.  Yates — 
Mr.  Mathews's  engagement  with  Mr.  Arnold — His  visit  to  Paris  with  that 
gentleman— Letter  to  Mrs.  Mathews  from  Paris — Tiercelin,  Brunet,  and 
Potier — Invitation  to  Mr.  Mathews's  "At  Home" — Programme  of  the 
entertainment — Mr.  Mathews's  introductory  address — Extraordinary  success 
of  the  speculation — Mr.  Mathews's  sudden  illness— Mr.  Arnold  and  his 
bond — Amelioration  of  the  agreement — Distressing  malady  .     pp.  196 — 211 


CONTENTS.  XI 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

Journey  to  Liverpool — Incidents  on  the  road — Letter  to  Mrs.  Mathews — Recep- 
tion of  Mr.  Mathews  by  his  friends  at  Swansea — Visit  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Rolls 
at  Briton  Ferry — Letters  to  Mrs.  Mathews pp.  212 — 215 

CHAPTER  XXII. 

Mr.  Mathews's  second  "  At  Home:"  Trip  to  Paris — Description  of  that  Enter- 
tainment— His  farewell  address — Literary  pirates — Ivy  Cottage  and  the 
picture  gallery — Mr.  Mathews  in  Scotland — Letters  to  Mrs.  Mathews — The 
methodistand  the  actor— Letters  to  Mrs.  Mathews    .     .     .     pp.  216— 225 

CHAPTEE  XXIII. 

Mr.  Mathews  again  "At  Home" — Country  cousins — Address  to  the  audience 
— Hogg,  the  Ettrick  Shepherd— Close  of  performance  at  English  Opera 
House,  and  Mr.  Mathews's  address — Mr.  Mathews's  visit  to  the  provinces — 
His  letters  to  Mrs.  Mathews— Lady  Butler  and  Miss  Ponsonby — Personifi- 
cation of  the  lat^'l.  P.  Curran— Letters  of  Mr.  Mathews  to  Mrs.  Mathews — 
Sensitiveness  of  Mr.  Mathews — Anecdote — Letters  continued — Two  impostors 
— Mr.  Mathews's  proposal  to  -erect  a  monument  to  Shakspeare  at  Stratford ; 
public  meeting  on  the  occasion — Intended  ascent  in  a  balloon,  pp.  226 — 237 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 

Announcement  of  Mr.  Mathews's  Adventures  in  Air,  Earth,  and  Water — Account 
of  these  Adventures — Address  on  the  close  of  the  fourth  season  of  Mr, 
Mathews's  entertainments — Anecdotes  of  Mr.  Coleridge  and  Mr.  Charles 
Lamb — Letter  of  Mr,  Coleridge  to  Mr.  Mathews   .     .     .     ,    pp,  238 — 248 

CHAPTER  XXV, 

Mr.  Mathews's  fondness  for  the  society  of  foreigners — Naldi,  Ambrogetti — A 
new  "At  Home" — Mr.  Mathews's  performance  in  aid  of  a  subscription  for 
the  Irish  Peasants — Letter  from  Mr.  J.  Wilson  Croker;  portrait  of  Mrs. 
Clive — Mr.  Mathews's  regret  at  his,  compact  with  Mr.  Arnold — Causes  of 
the  nervous  excitability  of  Mr.  Mathews — Proposed  engagement  with  Mr. 
Price  in  America — Stipulations  with  Mr.  Arnold — Mr.  Mathews's  address  on 
taking  leave  of  the  London  public — Letters  to  Mr.  Mathews  from  Mr. 
EUiston  and  Mr.  Macready — Mr.  Mathews's  performance  at  Carlton  House 
— Conversation  with  the  King — His  Majesty's  anecdote  of  Mr.  Kemble — 
Boyal  munificence pp.  249 — 257 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 

Mr.  Mathews's  departure  for  New  York — His  letters  from  America, 

pp.  258—280 


Xll  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 

Interview  at  Boston  between  Mr.  Mathews  and  an  old  friend  of  his  father- 
Letter  from<  that  gentleman  to  Mr.  Mathews — Letters  to  Mrs.  Mathews — 
Letter  from  Mr.  Mathews  to  Mr.  James  Smith  ;  the  American  character ; 
inordinate  love  of  petty  titles:  Yankee  conversation;  independent  land- 
lords ;  conversation  with  an  American  Boniface ;  a  black  Methodist ;  Negro 
songs — Letters  to  Mrs.  Mathews — Preparations  for  return  to  England, 

pp.  281—291 

CHAPTEE  XXYIII. 

Mr.  Mathews  at  New  York  in  the  character  of  Othello — Success  of  the  attempt 
— Anticipation  by  the  Americans  that  Mr.  Mathews  would,  on  his  return  to 
England,  ridicule  their  peculiarities — Public  dinner  given  to  him— Letter 
from  Mr.  Theodore  Hook  to  Mr.  Mathews — Mr.  Mathews's  engagement  to 
perform  in  the  regular  drama:  his  journey  to  Dublin — Letter  to  Mrs. 
Mathews :  a  stage-coach  nuisance — Mr.  Mathews's  dislike  of  idle  visitors — 
Letters  to  Mrs.  Mathews  :  arrival  at  Seapoint;  success  at  Dublin, 

pp.  292—296 

CHAPTEE  XXIX. 

Mr.  Mathews's  reluctance  to  give  offence  in  his  representation  of  American 
character — Letter  on  this  subject  from  Mr.  James  Smith — Letters  to  Mrs. 
Mathews :  Irish  anecdotes  :  danger  of  suffocation :  arrival  in  Wales — Mr. 
Mathews's  new  entertainment,  the  "Trip  to  America" — Account  of  the 
performance pp.  297 — 303 

CHAPTEE  XXX. 

Letter  from  the  Right  Honourable  J.  W.  Croker  to  Mr.  Mathews — Letter  to 
Mrs.  Mathews  :  Disturbance  at  the  Dublin  Theatre — Mr.  Talbot's  attempts 
to  thwart  the  success  of  Mr.  Mathews — Letters  to  Mrs.  Mathews :  passage 
to  Ireland  —  Unlucky  speculations  of  Mr.  Mathews  —  Letters  to  Mrs. 
Mathews     . pp.  304—309 

CHAPTEE  XXXI. 

Mr,  Mathews's  new  entertainment,  called  his  "Memorandum  Book" — Pro- 
gramme— Description  of  the  performance — Letter  from  Mr.  J.  Gr.  Lockhart 
to  Mr.  Mathews — Letters  to  Mrs.  Mathews :  Plymouth  gaieties :  Expedition 
to  Loo — Letter  to  Mrs.  Mathews :  Mr.  Farley  and  the  cat  in  the  boot — Mr. 
Mathews's  visit  to  Scotland — Letter  to  Mrs.  Mathews:  Introduction  of 
Mr.  C.  J.  Mathews  to  Sir  Walter  Scott:  Invitation  to  Abbotsford :  Sir 
Walter  and  the  novels — Anecdote  of  an  old  laird — A  Scotch  hackney- 
coachman pp.  310 — 317 


CONTENTS.  XIU 

CHAPTER  XXXII. 

Mr.  Mathews's  return  to  London — Letter  from  liim  to  tbe  Duke  of  Montrose : 
embarrassing  request — Frequent  visits  of  the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Montrose 
to  Mr.  Mathews's  "At  Homes" — Zealous  support  by  Mr.  Mathews  of  the 
Theatrical  Fund — Letter  from  Mr.  Mathews  to  Mr.  Richard  Lane:  Ille- 
gible names — Mr.  Mathews's  seventh  '*At  Home"  at  the  English  Opera- 
house —  Programme  of  the  entertainment — Letter  from  Dr.  Kitchener  to  Mr. 
Mathews  :  the  "Cook's  Oracle,"  the  ** Housekeeper's  Ledger,"  pp.  818 — 322 

CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

Mrs.  Eichard  Wilson's  parties  —  Distinguished  guests  —  Letter  to  Mrs. 
Mathews — Offer  to  Mr.  Mathews  from  Mr.  Price  of  an  engagement  at  Drury- 
lane  Theatre — Mr.  Mathews  at  the  English  Opera-house  and  in  the  pro- 
vinces— Invitation  from  the  Duke  of  Clarence  to  Mr,  Mathews— Conversation 
between  him  and  his  Royal  Highness — Mr.  Mathews's  "At  Home"  at  the 
English  Opera-house  for  the  eighth  season — The  "Home  Circuit" — Pro- 
gramme— Account  of  the  performance — A  journal  from  Brighton — Singular 
Visitor  —  Mr.  Mathews's  acceptance  of  an  engagement  at  Drury-lane 
Theatre  —  Letter  from  Mr.  Charles  Lamb  to  Mr.  Barron  Field  —  Mr. 
Mathews's  appearance  at  Drury-lane  Theatre — Great  success  of  the  per- 
formance— Mr.  Mathews's  journey  homewards  from  the  north — His  mail- 
coach  companions — A  damp  stranger — John  Luckie,  Baron  HuUock,  and 
Mr.  Brougham  —  Anecdote  —  Mr.  Mathews's  extraordinary  imitation  of 
children — Mr.  Liston  hoaxed  —  Mr.  Leigh  Hunt's  description  of  Mr. 
Mathews's  powers  —  Hospitality  of  Mr.  Thomas  Hill  —  The  Sydenham 
Sundays pp.  323—334 

CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

Mr.  Mathews  takes  a  share  in  the  Adelphi  Theatre  with  Mr.  Yates — Per- 
formances at  Brighton  with  Mr.  Yates — Anecdote  of  Mr.  Liston — Letters 
to  Mrs.  Mathews :  Berkeley  Castle :  Performances  at  Cheltenham — Mr. 
Mathews's  dinner  miseries — Letters  to  Mrs.  Mathews — Letter  from  Mr.  C.J. 
Mathews  to  Mrs.  Mathews :  Journal  of  a  residence  in  Italy  .     pp.  335 — 342 

CHAPTER  XXXY. 

The  Adelphi  Theatre  opened  by  Messrs.  Mathews  and  Yates — Account  of  the 
performance — Mr.  Mathews  in  the  character  of  Caleb  Pij)kin — Annoying 
inaccuracy — His  "first  real  illness" — His  love  of  eccentric  characters — 
Imputed  irritability  of  Mr.  Mathews — His  good  humour — Origin  of  the 
**  school  orators" — 'An  importunate  beggar — Impromptu — Mr.  Mathews  and 
Mr.  Yates  "  At  Home"  at  the  Adelphi,  in  1829 — Programme  of  the  spring 
entertainment — Popularity  of  the  performance — Mr.  Mathews's  pro-»incial 


XIV  CONTENTS. 

tour  with  Mr.  Yates — Letters  to  Mrs.  Mathews  :  travelling  adventures ; 
a  fearful  accident ;  providential  escape ;  arrival  at  Exeter — Trip  to  Paris — 
Mr.  Mathews's  performance  there — Return  to  England — Engagement  of  the 
celebrated  elephant,  Mademoiselle  Djek pp.  343 — 355 

CHAPTER  XXXYI. 

Re-opening  of  the  Adelphi  Theatre — Mr.  Mathews's  Comic  Annual  for  1830 — 
Address  on  the  close  of  the  performance  at  the  Adelphi — Arrival  from  Italy 
of  Mr.  Mathews's  son — Severe  illness  of  the  latter — Mr.  Mathews's  fondness 
for  birds  and  other  animals — The  little  bantam — Letter  to  the  Rev.  T. 
Speidell — Letter  to  Mrs.  Mathews — Letter  to  Mr.  Mathews  from  the  late 
Mr.  Godwin — Study  for  his  last  novel  of  "  Cloudesly" — Power  of  destroying 
personal  identity — Wonderful  instance  of  this  in  Mr.  Mathews — Letter  to 
the  Rev.  T.  Speidell— "  Comic  Annual"  for  1831  at  the  Adelphi  Theatre 
— Performances  of  Mr.  Mathews  and  Mr.  Yates — Charles  Mathews,  Junior, 
and  Carlo  Nanini — Illness  of  the  latter :  his  death — Effect  of  this  event  on 
Mr.  Mathews  described  in  letters  to  Mrs.  Mathews    .     .     .     pp.  356 — 368 

CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

Mr.  Mathews  and  family  at  Brighton — His  performances  at  the  Pavilion — 
Letter  to  Mr.  Peake :  illiberal  exclusion  from  the  Beef-steak  Club — Letter 
to  Mr.  Gryles,  containing  a  summary  of  Mr.  Mathews's  feelings  and  circum- 
stances at  the  commencement  of  1832 — Mr.  Mathews's  Comic  Annual  for 
1832 — Mr.  Mathews  in  his  "private  box"  at  the  House  of  Commons — Effect 
of  his  presence  on  several  of  the  members — Singular  nocturnal  adventure : 
an  escaped  felon — A  painful  accident — Paganini  and  Mr.  Mathews  at  South- 
ampton— Mr.  Mathews's  performance  at  Portsmouth — Another  accident — 
Letters  to  Mrs.  Mathews — Mr.  Mathews's  fondness  for  the  brute  creation — 
The  Duke  of  Wellington  and  Mr.  Mathews  in  the  Zoological  Gardens — A 
Newfoundland-dog — A  stray  goat pp.  369 — 382 

CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

Mr.  Mathews  a  great  hunter  after  **  sights" — The  Fasting  Woman  of  Tetbury; 
the  Living  Skeleton ;  Daniel  Lambert ;  Miss  Crackham,  an  Irish  Sicilian — 
Hottentot  Venus — Mr.  Kemble's  visit  to  the  last-mentioned  curiosity — A 
midnight  scene:  Mustapha  the  cat,  Mr.  Mathews,  and  Mr.  Kemble — Mr. 
Mathews's  anxiety  for  the  means  of  retirement  and  repose — His  losses  in 
bubble  companies — His  conviction  that  his  constitution  was  breaking  up — 
Removal  from  the  Cottage  to  London — The  Adelphi  Theatre  property — 
Action  at  law  against  Mr.  Mathews  for  thirty  thousand  pounds — Exhibition 
of  the  pictures  collected  by  Mr.  Mathews — His  London  residence — His  final 
departure  from  the  Cottage — Decline  of  his  health  and  spirits — His  com- 


CONTENTS.  XV 

mencement  of  his  autobiography — His  lethargy — Letter  from  Mr.  Mathews 
to  Mr.  Gyles — Account  of  the  exhibition  of  the  theatrical  pictures — Mr. 
Mathews  at  the  dinner  of  the  Covent  Garden  Theatrical  Fund :  imitation  of 
"  Glorious  Dan"— Mr.  Mathews's  *•  Comic  Annual "  for  1833,  pp.  383—397 

CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

Mr.  Mathews's  visit  to  Mr.  Eaton — His  dislike  of  transacting  business — His 
illness — His  visits  to  the  Zoological  Gardens — His  fondness  for  Brighton — ■ 
Letter  to  Mrs.  Mathews — Effect  on  Mr.  Mathews  of  an  inattentive  auditor  : 
anecdote — Letters  to  Mrs.  Mathews — Mr.  Mathews  anticipation  as  to  his 
biographer — Letter  to  Mrs.  Mathews  :  dreary  accident  on  Salisbury  Plain — 
Fatality  attending  Mr.  Mathews's  movements  from  home     .     pp.  398 — i08 

CHAPTER  XL. 

Serious  illness  of  Mr.  Mathews— His  sufferings — Letters  to  Mrs.  Mathews ; 
Corbyn's  Hall ;  Fop's  first  appearance  on  any  stage  ;  Mr.  Mathews's  recep- 
tion at  Birmingham — Letter  to  the  Rev.  Thomas  Speidell — Letters  to  Mrs. 
Mathews — Inns  ;  application  from  the  Covent  Garden  Theatrical  Fund — Mr. 
Mathews's  speech  at  the  Fund  dinner pp.  409 — 419 

CHAPTER  XLI. 

Offer  to  Mr.  Mathews  of  a  second  engagement  in  America — His  reluctance  to 
accept  it — His  ultimate  determination — His  performance  at  Richmond, 
being  his  last  public  appearance  in  England — Parting  interview  between  Mr. 
Mathews  and  Mr.  Bannister — Mr.  and  Mrs.  Mathews  at  Mr.  Cartwright's 
House  in  the  Isle  of  Wight — Their  departure  from  England  in  the  Canada — 
Valedictory  letter  from  Mr.  Theodore  Hook — The  voyage — The  somnambu- 
list— Arrival  at  New  York  ;  the  scurrilous  placard ;  Mr.  Mathews's  per- 
formance in  New  York  of  his  "  Trip  to  America  j"  its  effect  on  the  audience 
— Mr.  Mathews's  reception  in  Philadelphia pp.  420 — 433 

CHAPTER  XLII. 

Dinner  at  Philadelphia  in  compliment  to  Mr.  Sheridan  Knowles — Mr.  Mathews's 
speech  on  that  occasion — Letters  to  Mr.  C.  J.  Mathews ;  Mr.  Trelawney ; 
illness  of  Mr.  Mathews,  and  probability  of  his  premature  return  to  England ; 
reception  of  Mr.  Mathews  at  Boston— The  Scots'  Charitable  Society  of  Boston 
— Letter  from  Mrs.  Pierce  Butler  to  Mr.  Mathews  ;  information  touching 
the  Canadas — Letter  from  Mr.  Mathews  to  his  son — Letters  from  Mrs. 
Mathews  to  Mr.  C.  J.  Mathews  ;  preaching  of  Dr.  Wainwright — Fop  and  his 
impudent  claimant PP.  434—444 


XVI  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTEE  XLIII. 

Letters  from  Mrs.  Mathews  to  Mr.  C.  J.  Mathews  ;  JVIr.  Mathews's  appearance 
at  New  York  ;  anticipations .  of  return  home  ;  renovation  of  Mr.  Mathews's 
health;  a  "cold  snap  ;"  interior  of  an  American  house — Letter  from  Mr. 
Mathews  to  the  Rer.  Thomas  Speidell — Mr.  Mathews's  last  appearance  in 

■  New  York  —  Embarkation  for  England — Letter  to  Mr,  C.  J.  Mathews  ; 
arrival  at  Liverpool ;  the  homeward  voyage  ;  sudden  and  alarming  illness  of 
Mr.  Mathews  ;  a  violent  gale pp.  445 — 452 

.    CHAPTER  XLIV. 

Mr.  Mathews*s  anxiety  as  to  his  affairs — The  excellence  of  his  character — 
Letters  to  Mi-s.  Mathews  ;  state  of  Mr.  Mathews's  health,  and  treatment  of 
his  medical  attendants — Mr.  Winstanley's  account  of  the  illness  of  Mr. 
Mathews — Letters  to  Mrs.  Mathews  :  improvement  in  the  health  of  Mr. 
Mathews  ;  his  endeavour  to  mingle  jest  with  pain  ;  preparations  for  removal 
to  Crick  ;  the  journey  thither — Application  from  the  Committee  of  the 
Theatrical  Fund — Mr.  Mathews's  reply — Letters  to  Mrs.  Mathews :  De- 
spondency of  Mr.  Mathews — Letter  to  Mr.  Gyles ....     pp.  453 — 463 

CHAPTER  XLY. 

Mr.  Mathews's  departure  from  Crick — His  journey  to  Oxford — Embarks  for 
Plymouth — His  arrival  there — Mr  Harris's  report  as  to  the  progress  of  Mr. 
Mathews's  illness — Letter  to  Mrs.  Mathews pp.  464 — 468 

CHAPTER  XLYI. 

Formal  announcement  to  Mrs.  Mathews  of  the  impossibility  of  her  husband's 
recovery — Mr.  Wightwick's  recital  of  the  progress  of  Mr.  Mathews's  dis- 
order— A  happy  evening — Final  interview  between  Mr.  Mathews  and  his 
son — Mr.  Mathews's  conversation  in  writing — His  night-visions — Delusive 
symptoms — His  last  words — His  death — The  last  mournful  ceremonies — His 
monument pp.  469 — 480 


THE 

LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE 

OP 

CHAKLES    MATHEWS. 

r       

CHAPTER  I. 

My  determination  to  write  my  life— Birth,  parentage,  and  education;  life,  cha* 
racter,  and  behaviour — My  retentive  memory — My  birth-place — My  gi-and- 
father  and  father — Family  disputes — Fanatic  visitors — My  face  and  figure 
when  a  child— Hannah  More  and  Garrick — My  school -days — The  school- 
master and  usher — My  precocious  attempts  at  mimicry — A  perambulating 
fishmonger — My  imitation  of  his  queer  cry,  and  his  revenge. 

"  He  who  pleads  his  own  cause  has  a  fool  for  his  client,"  say 
the  lawyers.  I  am  afraid  the  writer  of  his  own  life  is  liable  to 
the  same  imputation.  I  should  have  begun  to  write  mine  years 
ago,  if  I  had  had  the  courage.  "  On  their  own  merits  modest 
men  are  dumb," — on  their  demerits  they  are  not  likely  to  dwell. 
What  then  is  a  poor  fellow  to  do,  who,  with  the  terrors  of  the 
press  before  his  eyes,  feels  it  a  sort  of  duty  to  himself  to  put  on 
record  a  few  remarkable  events,  anecdotes  of  celebrated  men, 
hair-breadth  escapes  by  flood  and  field,  opinions  of  contem- 
poraries, and  various  scenes  in  the  drama  of  life  in  which  he  has 
been  a  principal  actor  ? 

It  is  not  merely  a  record  of  my  own  adventures  and  mishaps — 
my  life  and  opinions,  that  I  am  vain  enough  to  think  amusing ; 
but  some  of  those  singular  events  which,  contrary  to  all  proba- 
bility or  my  own  expectation,  mingled  me  with  remarkable  men. 
Few  individuals  have  had  greater  opportunities  afforded  them 
than  myself  of  associating  or  coming  in  contact  with  persons  of 
every  class  of  society,  as  1  trust  I  shall  be  able  to  show.  The 
original  causes  of  such  heterogeneous  associations  it  will  be  my 
business  to  depict — but,  from  one  chance  or  another,  "  they  lay 
in  my  way,"  and  I  have  known,  visited,  corresponded,  or  con- 
versed with  kings,  lords,  commons,  merchants,  traders  ;  all,  from 
the  cobbler's  stall  to  the  palace,  I  have,  like  Asmodeus,  con- 

B 


2  THE  LIFE  AND  COERESPONDENCE  OF 

trived  to  enter — and,  therefore,  think  I  have  at  least  the  where- 
withal to  furnish  an  amusing  work. 

Well,  then,  for  some  years  I  have  hoped  the  day  would  arrive 
when  I  should  have  the  courage  to  "attempt  my  own  life."  I 
really  have  to  plead  the  excuse  of  publishing  "  at  the  desire  of 
too  partial  friends."  I  have  been  coaxed,  wheedled,  urged, 
tempted,  bribed,  goaded  almost,  to — begin.  "  Make  a  com- 
mencement at  all  events.  Try ;  'tis  a  shame — such  stores  of 
anecdotes — you  will  only  have  to  copy,  and  instead  of  the 
dazzling  white  paper  before  yon,  you  can  shut  your  lids,  while  the 
eyes  are  turned  within,  and  have  only  the  labour  of  remem- 
bering, while  others  are  battering  their  brains  for  invention." 
"Yes,"  said  I,  "true — but  then  the  plan,  the  construction,  the 
language  !  The  public  has  been  fed  with  such  high  dishes,  that" 
— "They  are  more  likely  to  be  pleased  with  simple  fare,"  said 
a  good-natured,  round,  dimple-faced  friend.  "  Ah  !  there  in- 
deed!"  said  I;  "if  I  believed  that!"  "Believe  it  then  from 
me ;  write  fearlessly — nay,  carelessly  if  you  like."  "  What ! 
with  the  terrors  of  the  Quarterly  and  Edinburgh,  cum  multis 
aliis,  before  my  eyes  ?"  "  You  have  nothing  to  fear  from  them, 
if  you  do  not  '  attempt'  too  much.  Flowery  writing,  or  meta- 
phorical description,  will  '  confound  you,'  not  the  deed  of  writing 
as  you  speak." 

"  Well !"  said  I,  "  seriously,  I  am  thinking  of  it.  Begin  I 
will,  my — my — what  ?  '  Apology  ?' — I  hear  a  hiss  at  the  word. 
*  Records  ?'  already  done.  '  Reminiscences  ?' — stale.  Well,  then 
— Birth,  parentage,  and  education — Life, character,  and  behaviour 
of  Charles  Mathews,  Comedian,  who  was — Hang  it !  I  have 
heard  those  words  before,  and  precisely  so  arranged;  but  no 
matter — I  will  pursue  that  style  of  biography  to  the  letter ;  it 
has  sold  many  a  sheet-list  of  all  '  the  unfortunate  malefactors,' 
and  perhaps  it  is  not  yet  so  damaged  in  the  service  but  that  it 
may  be  of  service  to  me.  I  will  begin  with  the  birth,  and 
pursue  it  to — nay,  not  quite  to  the  last  scene — I  must  leave  that 
to  somebody  more  alive  to  the  subject  than  myself." 

I  have  never  written  with  a  view  to  publication  since  I  was 
sixteen,  and  have  considerable  doubt  whether  I  am  qualified  for 
the  task.  I  have  resolved  to  put  down  rapidly  the  matter  which 
my  memory  is  charged  withal,  and  shall  risk  the  reading  just  as 
I  should  a  letter  written  in  a  hurry  to  an  indulgent  friend,  of 
which  I  had  preserved  no  copy.  I  have  never  kept  a  journal  or 
diary,  or  made  a  memorandum  of  a  conversation  in  my  life  ;  but 
i  have  an  excellent — nay,  an  extraordinary  memory  (an  inva- 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  3 

luable  gift  to  one  of  my  profession),  and,  having  given  public 
proof  of  this,  I  may  venture  to  make  the  remark.  I  fearlessly 
pledge  myself  to  the  declaration,  that  I  can  perfectly  recollect 
and  repeat  most  of  the  anecdotes  and  conversations  of  remarkable 
persons  whom  I  have  met  in  early  life,  with  as  much  facility  as 
I  related  them  at  the  time  they  happened. 

Addison  remarks,  "  that  no  one  peruses  a  book  with  so  much 
content,  if  he  be  unacquainted  with  the  author,  as  when  he  is 
informed  of  his  situati^  in  life,  his  connexions,  his  disposition, 
and,  above  all,  of  his  person."  Now,  knowing  the  misery  of  un- 
gratified  curiosity,  I  feel  it  my  duty  to  proceed  upon  this  hint, 
and  shall  therefore  endeavour  to  afford  every  facility  in  my  power 
to  those  who  may  do  me  the  honour  to  read  my  life  and  experi- 
ence, towards  their  full  enjoyment  ofthese  volumes,  by  satisfying 
the  most  insatiable  propensity  for  prying  that  ever  afflicted  the 
most  curious  and  inquisitive  of  the  human  race. 

I  shall  commence  this  narrative  with  "  those  early  years 
wherein  the  human  mind  receives  its  first  bias — when  the  seeds 
of  all  our  future  actions  are  sown  in  the  heart,  and  when  causes, 
in  themselves  so  trifling  as  almost  to  be  imperceptible,  chain  us 
to  good  or  bad,  to  fortune  or  misfortune ;"  and,  with  this  object 
in  view,  1  hope  I  shall  be  excused  if,  in  the  outset,  I  dwell  for 
some  time  on  the  situation  in  life,  connexions,  and  disposition  of 
others — I  mean,  of  that  excellent  man,  my  father,  and  of  the 
peculiar  society  in  which  he  moved. 

To  begin  at  the  beginning,  then,  I  shall  commence  with  my 
first  birthday.* 

I  was  born  on  the  28th  of  June,  1776,  at  half-past  two  o'clock 
"  and  a  cloudy  morning,"  at  No.  18,  Strand,  London.  The  house, 
I  regret  to  say,  no  longer  exists,  for  in  thesummer  of  1833 1  had 

*  On  a  fly-leaf  of  the  huge  family  Bible,  the  following  memoranda  may  be 
found  in  his  father's  writing : — 
After  the  heading  of — 

"James  Mathews,  his  Book, 
1765, 

was  born  the  20th  of  July,  1742,  and  married  to  Elizabeth  Manly  the  21st  of 
July,  1765,  who  was  born  in  the  month  of  June,  1744 — 

Heirs  together  of  the  grace  of  life  !" — 

may  then  be  seen  in  regular  succession  the  dates  of  the  births  of  fourteen  chil- 
dren— seven  daughters  and  seven  sons.    Of  the  latter, 

"  Charles  Mathews,  the  seventh  son  of  James  and  Elizabeth  Mathews, 
was  born  on  June  the  28th,  1776,  at  a  quarter  before  three  o'clock  in  the 
morning." 

b2 


4  THE  LIFE  AND   COEEESPONDENCE  OF 

the  mortification  to  see  the  venerable  residence  of  my  forefathers, 
the  interesting  birthplace  of  the  hero  of  these  pages,  destroyed 
piecemeal  by  unhallowed  hands,  who,  regardless  of  all  its  classical, 
poetical,  and  histrionic  associations,  demolished,  brick  by  brick, 
every  vestige  of  its  former  appearance,  and  "left  not  a  rack 
behind," — for  what?  Oh,  bathos!  to  open  to  the  public — a 
view  of  Hungerford  Market ! 

My  grandfather  was  a  native  of  Glamorganshire,  and  the  real 
family  name  was  Matthew,  which  he  changed,  for  an  estate,  to 
Mathews  with  one  T.  He  died,  leaving  his  property  in  litiga- 
tion ;  and  my  father  thereby  lost  a  T  and  a  Chancery  suit.  The 
estate  was  worth  200Z.  a  year,  and  cost  him  about  210/.  annually 
in  law  and  repairs  ;  so  that  its  loss  became  a  gain, — a  fact,  I  take 
it,  of  no  small  importance  to  the  world. 

My  father  was  a  respectable,  and  what  was  called  a  "  serious" 
bookseller — indeed,  he  was  himself  so  rigid  a  sectarian  as  to  have 
been  selected  to  be  prime  minister  at  one  of  her  chapels  by  no  less 
a  personage  than  Lady  Huntingdon  herself;  so  that  it  will  be 
easily  imagined  I  was  not  indebted  to  him  for  any  of  my  thea- 
trical propensities.  He,  good  man,  assured  me  that  he  had  never 
seen  a  play  in  his  life.  His  father,  also  a  bookseller,  was  one  of 
those  persons  who  thought  it  sinful  to  enjoy  innocent  amusement, 
and  his  son  was  forbidden  to  be  gay  or  mirthful.  My  father  was 
obedient  (my  son  cannot  say  as  much  of  his  father),  and  I  have 
not  yet  sufficiently  repented  of  my  disobedience  to  add,  "  Alas ! 
would  that  I  had  been  obedient  too!"  "Just  as  the  twig  is 
bent,"  they  say,  "  the  tree's  inclined ;"  but  had  I  been  so  in- 
clined, I  might  have  been  at  this  moment  a  "  serious  bookseller" 
also,  for  my  father  had  designed  me  for  his  successor.  But,  as 
it  happens  in  the  best-regulated  families,  the  husband  and  wife 
did  not  chance  to  agree — that  is,  upon  religious  points. 

My  excellent  mother  was  strict  in  her  adherence  to  the  tenets 
of  the  Church  of  England ;  my  father  was  a  rigid  Calvinist.  Yet 
these  differences  of  opinion,  I  must  do  them  the  justice  to  say, 
were  conducted  with  such  good  breeding,  that  I  do  not  recollect 
ever  witnessing  any  unpleasant  controversies.  My  father  was* 
satisfied  with  sincerity  in  any  one ;  he  allowed  my  mother  to 
think  for  herself  without  opposing,  still  less  persecuting,  her  for 
her  opinions,  and  she,  with  most  dignified  church-pride,  as  some 
pf  the  sectarians  designated  it,  satisfied  her  mind  by  thoroughly, 
in  her  heart,  despising  the  ignorant  fanatics  by  whom  he  was 
surrounded — for  surrounded  I  may  call  it — to  the  destruction  of 
the  well-being  of  his  family.     Had  he  been  a  professed  gambler, 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  0 

we  could  not  have  felt  more  alarm  at  the  entrance  of  a  black-leg 
into  tlie  family  circle  than  the  arrival  of  a  newly- acquired  brother. 
Yet  he,  the  sincerest  of  the  sincere,  the  most  guileless,  the  most 
intrinsically  honest  and  moral  man,  I  believe  now  in  my  heart, 
that  ever  passed  sixty-four  summers  in  this  sublunary  globe, 
remained  a  liberal  Chri§>ttan  amongst  wretched  fanatics,  moderate 
in  a  crowd  of  raving  enthusiasts — the  mildest  of  preachers,  the 
kindest  of  advisers,  himself  an  example  to  the  wholesale  dealers 
in  brimstone — the  pawnbrokers,  hosiers,  butchers,  shoemakers, 
travelling  tinkers,  no  matter  how  low,  how  ignorant  (blasphemers, 
I  then  and  now  consider  many  of  them),  to  whose  tender  mercies 
I  was  constantly  subject.  A  regular  set  of  technical  cant  phrases 
pervaded  the  discourse  of  them  all.  I  and  you,  my  gentle  readers, 
were  damned,  and  they  were  saved ;  they  had  "  had  a  call,"  or 
were  "of  the  elect,"  and  little  other  qualification  was  necessary 
to  start  as  expounders  of  the  word,  and  to  spout  nonsense  by  the 
hour. 

Such  were  thqge  by  whom  my  father  was  hemmed  in.  Had 
he  not  been  bitten  by  one  of  these  rabid  animals  very  early  in 
life,  his  naturally  cheerful  mind  and  kindly  benevolent  disposition 
would  have  admirably  qualified  him  for  a  contented,  quiet,  and 
happy  member  of  the  real,  true  mode  of  worship,  as  I  think,  and 
trust  ever  shall  think. 

But  T  have  dwelt  so  long  upon  my  parentage,  that  I  have 
nearly  forgotten  the  advice  of  the  great  Spectator,  and  the  neces- 
sity of  relieving  the  minds  of  the  curious  in  minutiae — "  Above 
all,  his  person." 

For  a  more  exact  description  of  this  I  have  referred  to  my 
nurse,  who  was  alive  to  tell  the  tale  within  ten  years  of  the  date 
hereof.  She  assured  me  that  I  was  a  long,  thin  skewer  of  a 
child,  of  a  restless,  fidgety  temperament,  and  by  no  means  regular 
features — quite  the  contrary  ;  and  as  if  Nature  herself  suspected 
she  had  not  formed  me  in  one  of  her  happiest  moments,  the 
Fates  combined  with  her  to  render  me  more  remarkable,  and 
finding  there  was  not  the  least  chance  of  my  being  a  beauty,  con- 
spired to  make  me  comical. 

The  agreeable  twist  of  my  would-be  features  was  occasioned, 
as  the  above-named  lady  assured  me — indeed,  1  have  heard  my 
mother  with  great  tenderness  and  delicacy  confirm  it — by  a 
species  of  h^'^steric  fits  to  which  I  was  subject  in  infancy,  one  of 
which  distorted  my  mouth  and  eyebrows  to  such  a  degree  as  to 
render  me  almost  hideous  for  a  time,  though  my  partial  nurse 
declared  my  "  eyes  made  up  for  all,  they  were  so  bright  and 


6  THE  LIFE  AND  CORKESPONDENCE  OF 

lively."  Be  this  as  it  may,  certain  it  is  that,  after  the  recovery 
from  this  attack,  folks  laughed  the  moment  they  saw  me,  and 
said,  "  Bless  the  dear  little  dear !  it  is  not  a  beauty,  to  be  sure ; 
but  what  a  funny  face  it  has  !"  The  "off-side"  of  my  mouth, 
as  a  coachman  would  say,  took  such  an  affection  for  my  ear,  that 
it  seemed  to  make  a  perpetual  struggle  to  form  a  closer  commu- 
nication with  it,  and  one  eyebrow  became  fixed  as  a  rusty  weather- 
cock, while  the  other  popped  up  an  inch  apparently  beyond  its 
proper  position.  The  effects  remain  to  this  day,  though  mode- 
rated. "  Wrj'^mouth"  was  a  nickname  applied  to  me  when  at 
school,  and  for  the  first  seven  years  of  my  life  I  was  in  the  habit 
of  holding  my  hand  to  my  cheek  to  hide  the  blemish.  What 
good  or  evil  "  was  here  wrapt  up  in  countenance,"  or  how  far 
this  may  have  interfered  to  direct  my  future  pursuits,  I  do  not 
attempt  to  say. 

I  am  now  about  to  relate  a  circumstance  which  properly 
belongs  to  one  of  the  "  seven  ages,"  namely,  the  first ;  but  as 
my  talent  is  not  quite  equal  to  that  of  the  Irishman  who  said, 
*'  There's  not  a  man  in  the  four  provinces  has  such  a  memory  as 
me — I  never  heard  that  story  yet  but  I  could  repeat  it  fifty 
years  afterwards,"  I  do  not  pretend  to  recollect  what  happened 
to  me  in  infancy,  yet  am  I  correctly  clear  as  to  the  description 
of  the  scene  by  my  father.  It  was  no  less  than  the  justly- 
celebrated  Hannah  More's  introducing  Garrick  to  him  in  his 
own  shop.  He  had  never  seen  him  act,  and  therefore  could  not 
feel  any  of  that  glow  that  I  feel  in  relating  the  incident — he 
had  never  witnessed,  therefore  could  not  appreciate  his  talents. 

Keader !  do  you  not,  as  I  do,  pity  from  the  bottom  of  your 
heart  the  unfortunate  victim  of  prejudice,  who  could  voluntarily 
deprive  himself  of  the  effects  of  that  resplendent  genius,  the 
admiration  not  only  of  England,  but  of  Europe  !  What  reward 
would  you  accept  to  be  deprived  of  the  reminiscence  of  the 
gratification  afforded  you  by  a  Kemble — a  Siddons — a  Talma  ? 
Nay,  had  you  been  a  play -goer  till  lately,  and  as  suddenly  con- 
verted as  some  of  these  would-be  saints  have  been,  would  you 
not  say — now  be  candid,  "  Well,  I  am  glad  I  saw  Mrs.  Siddons 
first  ?"     But  whither  am  I  wandering  ? 

Well,  notwithstanding  this  sacrifice  of  pleasure  to  principle, 
my  father's  pride  was  gratified  that  the  introduction  took  place ; 
and  when  the  testimony  to  that  great  man's  private  worth  as 
well  as  splendid  talents  was  given,  at  the  ceremony  of  depositing 
his  honoured  remains  in  Westminster  Abbey,  by  the  long  pro- 
cession of  Lords  and  Commons  that  followed,  an  impression  was 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  W 

made  on  the  mind  of  a  trader  that  must  have  staggered  his 
senses,  and,  in  spite  of  the  sentiments  his  misleaders  had  im- 
planted in  him,  he  used  ever  after  to  erect  his  crest  when  he 
related  that  he  had  had  the  honour  of  the  great  Garrick's 
acquaintance.*  ^^ 

As  soon  as  my  ears  were  susceptible  of  having  the  delicious 
f:ict  instilled  into  them,  I  heard  that  on  the  occasion  of  the 
introduction — credat  1 — Reader,  take  breath — he,  Garrick,  took 
me  in  his  arms  !  Yes,  I  was  touched,  embraced,  fondled  by  the 
immortal  David!  That  I  cannot  describe  my  sensations  will 
easily  be  believed  when  I  state  that  I  could  not  by  possibility 
have  been  three  years  old,  inasmuch  as  I  was  born  on  the  28th 
of  June,  he  having  made  his  final  bow  to  the  Public  on  the  10th 
in  that  same  year  (a  fact  I  would  impress  on  the  numerous 
persons  who  during  my  life  have  pestered  me  with  the  question, 
"  Do  you  remember  Garrick,  Mr.  Mathews  ?"  my  answer  having 
always  been,  "No,  sir,  I  can  prove  an  alihi.'")  Well,  he  took 
me  in  his  arms,  and,  like  the  near-sighted  lady  who  said,  when  a 
coal-scuttle  entered  the  room  in  place  of  an  expected  infant, 
"Dear!  how  like  its  father!"  no  doubt  made  some  common- 
place observation  ;  but  my  father  often  declared  that  he  burst 
into  a  fit  of  laughter,  and  said,  "  Why,  his  face  laughs  all  over, 
but  certainly  on  the  wrong  side  of  his  mouth  !" 

I  do  not  go  so  far  as  to  say  this  did  or  did  not  affect  my 
future  destiny ;  that  my  father  in  his  serious  moods  alluded  to 
it  with  such  a  feeling,  there  can  be  no  doubt — it  may  have  been 
ominous. 

Hannah  Moref  was  at  that  time  of  a  serious  cast,  as  it  is 

*  David  Garrick,  the  greatest  actor  that  ever  trod  the  Engfish  stage,  the 
first  that  struck  the  death-blow  at  formal  and  stilted  declamation,  substituting 
for  it  the  vigorous  and  impassioned  expression  of  natural  sentiments,  was  born 
in  in 6.  He  was  educated  at  Lichfield,  where  he  formed  the  acquaintance  of 
Samuel  Johnson,  with  whom  he  came  to  London  in  1736.  In  1741  he  first 
came  upon  the  stage,  and  his  success  was  immediately  established.  He  became 
the  patentee  of  Drury  Lane  Theatre  in  1747,  and  the  remainder  of  his  course, 
until  his  retirement  in  1776,  was  one  long  series  of  successes.  He  died  in 
1779,  and  was  interred  in  Westminster  Abbey,  where  his  monument,  repre- 
senting him  between  Tragedy  and  Comedy,  is  still  a  great  attraction.  In  addi- 
tion to  his  histrionic  talent,  Garrick  was  a  man  of  considerable  literary  ability, 
a  member  of  the  celebrated  Literary  Club,  and  an  intimate  friend  of  Johnson, 
Goldsmith,  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  &c. 

t  Hannah  More,  a  distinguished  moral  writer,  born  in  1744,  died  in  1833, 
having  attained  the  advanced  age  of  eighty-three.  She  was  the  authoress  of 
very  many  moral  and  religious  works,  all  of  which  during  her  lifetime  enjoyed 
signal  success.     To  the  present  generation  she  will  perhaps  be  best  known  by 


8  THE  LIFE  AND  COERESPONDENCE  OF 

called,  but  did  not  quite  believe  that  the  association  with  little 
Davy  endangered  the  soul.  Whether  she  was  of  my  father's 
principles  or  not  I  cannot  tell ;  for  to  this  hour  I  do  not  know 
what  these  Wesleyans,  Whitfieldites,  and  Huntingtonians  were 
disputing — nay,  quarrelling  about ;  nor  why  two  human  beings, 
believing  in  one  God,  should  condemn  each  other  to  everlasting 
punishment,  because  their  leaders  gave  different  interpretations 
to  the  same  text  in  Scripture.  Miss  Hannah,  at  all  events,  sub- 
mitted some  of  her  small  religious  tracts  to  my  father,  who 
published  them ;  and  I  may  presume  from  this  that,  as  he  was 
so  employed  by  her,  he  declined  putting  his  name  to  what  she 
called  her  "  Sacred  Dramas."  He  iield  himself  in  such  a  situa- 
tion personally  responsible,  though  he  did  not  carry  his  prejudices 
so  far  as  to  exclude  from  his  shelves  the  works  of  our  great 
English  dramatists. 

In  due  course  of  time  I  was  sent  to  school — St. 'Martin's  Free 
School  was,  I  believe,  the  first.  In  the  indiscriminate  selection  of  a 
first  school  there  are  very  few  who  reflect  on  its  consequent  effects 
in  after  life.  Had  I  twenty  sons  I  would  never  send  one  to  the 
school  of  a  man  fond  of  punishment.  I  say  fond,  for  I  am  con- 
vinced that  my  first  pompous  pedagogue  had  no  gratification 
equal  to  the  superintending  a  flagellation.  "  Let  this  little 
gentleman  feel  the  rod!"  I  have  the  sound  in  my  ears  at  this 
moment.  Had  flogging  given  knowledge,  I  might  have  been  a 
dangerous  rival  to  the  seven  Greek  sages.  But,  alas !  I  did  not 
flourish,  though  my  master  did !  Often  have  I  cast  an  eye  to 
the  little  cherubs  that  clung  on  the  corner  of  the  organ  at  the 
end  of  the  school-room,  and  wished  I  had  been  shaped  like  them, 
— only  head  and  wings  ! 

Our  master,  Pownall,  was  a  remarkably  handsome  man,  but 
pomposity  itself.  His  usher,  Shaw,  a  lank  bony  Scotchman — 
how  can  I  describe  him  ? — squinted  "  more  than  a  gentleman 
ought."  He  had  a  barbarous  accent,  and  therefore,  I  suppose, 
was  selected  to  teach  the  "  Breetish  languitch  in  its  oreeginal 
peurity  "  to  us  cockneys.  He  was  a  quaint  man — thin  as  a 
pitchfork.  He  used  to  shamble  up  and  down  the  school  by 
slow  fits,  rubbing  his  gamboge  chin  with  his  burnt-umber  fingers, 
and  directing  little  bits  of  broken  unintelligible  advice  to  the 
leering,  sheepish,  idle  little  animals  who  sat  in  rows  up  the  room, 
walking  before  them  like  Aaron  with  his  rod. 

**CceIebs  in  Search  of  a  Wife,"  and  a  little  tract  called  "The  Shepherd  of 
Salisbury  Plain,"  the  original  sale  of  which  is  said  to  have  exceeded  one  million 
copies. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  9 

I  was  at  that  time  particularly  fond  of  carrying  a  bit  of 
broken  looking-glass,  to^dazzle  "Shaw's  queer  optics"  with. 
Many  were  the  convulsive,  painfully-smothered  laughs  I  and  my 
wicked  coadjutors  writhed  under  (while  I  remained  undiscovered) 
at  his  simplicity  and  patience,  enduring  this  infliction  day  after 
day,  squinting  up  to  discover  through  what  cranny  in  the  blind 
it  was  that  the  sun  came  in  to  occasion  this  annoyance ;  but  at 
length  I  was  caught  in  the  fact,  for,  while  I  thought  he  was 
looking  in  an  entirely  opposite  direction,  I  found  he  was  looking 
me  and  my  bit  of  glass  full  in  the  face.  I  was  horsed,  and  now 
really  flogged — barbarously  birched  ;  while  Pompey  Pownall 
roai*ed  out,  with  a  voice  of  thunder,  this  facetious  moral — "That, 
sir,  will  teach  you,  I  hope,  not  to  cast  reflections  on  the  heads  of 
the  school !" 

Here  may  be  traced  my  first  attempts  at  mimicry.  I  re- 
member the  flogging  fellows  to  this  hour, — their  voice,  tone, 
and  manner ;  and  my  ruling  propensity  was  thus  early  called 
into  action  at  their  expense. 

Another  precocious  attempt  at  individual  imitation  about  the 
same  time  had  nearly  proved  fatal,  and,  it  might  be  supposed, 
would  have  tended  to  check  that  irresistible  impulse  I  had  to 
echo,  like  the  mocking-bird,  every  sound  I  heard.  I  used  to 
amuse  my  schoolfellows  with  what  I  then  thought  my  best 
specimen  in  that  way.  It  was  of  a  man  who  cried  eels  about 
the  streets,  and  passed  through  the  Strand  by  my  father's  door 
daily.  He  was  rather  short,  but  remarkably  muscular  ;  he  had 
a  peculiar  guttural  voice,  which  I  remember  correctly  to  this 
hour,  and  which  I  can  of  course  now  delineate  with  more 
accuracy  and  truth  than  my  then  penny-trumpet  voice  could 
enable  me  to  do ;  still  it  is  quite  out  of  the  question  that  I  can 
give  any  idea  of  such  an  oi-iginal  with  my  pen,  when  the  whole 
humour  of  my  delineation  depends  upon  intonation  :  nor  should 
I  relate  the  anecdote,  but  to  enforce  my  position  of  the  wonder 
that  I  had  not  given  up  business  in  that  line  in  the  outset. 
This  fellow's  regular  cry  was,  "  Live  eels  !  Conger  eels  !  Thames 
eels  ! — ivj  my  eels — silver  eels — Dutch  eels — threepence  a  pound 
e-e-e-e-e-e-els!"  which,  taking  a  fresh  supply  of  breath  from  his 
leathern  lungs,  he  eeZ-longated  to  such  an  extent,  that  the  last 
monosyllable  frequently  held  out  in  undiminished  force  and 
energy  while  he  strided  from  Craven  to  Hungerford  street. 

An  imitation  of  this  odd,  perambulating  fishmonger,!  considered 
as  most  desirable.  He  was  a  notorious  character,  and  excited 
various  laughs,  from  the  infant  snigger  to  the  adult  roar  ;  and 


to  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

"  What  a  long  eel !"  was  the  constant  remark  his  drollery 
excited.  Even  my  father's  serious  friends  relaxed  so  far  from 
their  rigidity  of  muscle  as  to  ha-ha-ha  nearly  three  times  at  my 
successful  hitting  off  of  his  peculiarities.  Encouraged  by  this 
approbation  into  boldness,  having  brought  my  parody  to  per- 
fection, I  was  emulous  of  the  approval  of  the  great  original 
himself;  and  having  due  notice  of  his  approach  from  the  long 
eel  on  which  he  was  trilling  perhaps  as  far  off  as  Charing  Cross, 
I  anxiously  awaited  his  arrival.  When  he  was  near  enough  to 
observe  my  action,  I  placed  my  hand  on  the  dexter  side  of  my 
mouth,  and  commenced  my  sinister  operations,  taking  him  off 
"to  the  very  life,"  as  my  panegyrists  had  led  me  to  believe  I 
could.  Had  I  been  as  slippery  as  one  of  his  own  articles  of 
traffic,  I  might  have  twisted  and  wriggled  my  way  behind  the 
counter  and  escaped  ;  but  he  was  too  much  for  me — indeed  I 
did  not  apprehend  so  savage  an  attack.  Deliberately  placing 
liis  basket  at  the  door,  he  pursued  me  into  the  shop  ;  and  as  I 
flinched  from  the  huge  and  ponderous  fist  that  was  poised  high 
in  air  to  annihilate  me,  I  conveniently  placed  my  back  to  receive 
his  blow.  "  Next  time,"  said  the  huge  monster,  as  he  felled  me 
to  the  earth,  "  as  you  twists  your  little  wry  mouth  about  and 
cuts  your  mugs  at  a  respectable  tradesman,  I'll  skin  you  like  an 
e-e-"  and  seizing  his  whole  shop  up  in  his  Brobdignagian  arms, 
he  finished  the  monosyllable  somewhere  about  No.  27.  For 
weeks — nay,  months — did  I  suffer  from  the  effects  of  this 
punishment. 


CHARLES^  MATHEWS.  11 


CHAPTER   II. 

Methodist  preachers :  Brothers  Hill,  Durrani,  Huntington,  Berridge — Fanatics* 
Tabernacle  in  Tottenham-court-road — "The  Oven"  —  Early  bigotry — 
"Wrestling"  —  First  love  —  Musical  mania — Incipient  yearnings  after 
popular  applause — Enfield  races. 

Little  daunted  at  my  ill  success  in  my  first  attempt,  I  com- 
menced, previously  to  my  knowledge  of  the  actors,  with  the 
heroes  of  the  pulpit.  I  was  reckoned  so  expert  at  my  represen- 
tations of  Brother  Hill  and  Brother  Durrant,  Huntington,  &c. 
that  I  have  been  requested,  in  some  moments  of  hilarity  (alas  I 
they  were  but  few),  to  exhibit  my  imitative  powers  before  some 
of  the  stiffest  of  our  visitors,  and  success  crowned  my  efforts. 
My  father  was  a  joyous-looking  person,  and  his  jolly  good- 
humoured  face  dimpled  into  delight  at  the  "  little  dog's  im- 
pudence:" I  need  not  say  I  had  ample  encouragement  from  my 
mother  in  this  pursuit. 

My  most  successful  delineation  was  of  a  huge-wigged  old 
devotee  whom  we  called  Daddy  Berridge.  He  had  been  a 
preacher  in  the  Whitfield  school  for  many  years.  He  was  a 
very  old  man  at  the  period  I  speak  of,  and  had  lived  long  enough 
to  see  the  progress  of  the  Tabernacle  in  Tottenham-court-road 
until  it  had  become  a  third  larger  than  in  Whitfield's  time.  I 
myself  remember  it  before  the  addition  of  the  gallery  to  the 
east  end,  and  when  the  pulpit  was  nearly  close  to  the  wall ;  but 
when  the  new  wing  was  added,  there  was  an  eye  to  the  accom- 
modation of  a  hundred  or  two  more  persons  than  it  would 
formerly  hold.  These  additional  auditors,  however,  were  neces* 
sarily  only  indulged  with  a  back  view  of  the  precious  wigs  of  the 
preachers :  and  those  whose  circumstances  did  not  afford  them 
seats  in  the  new  gallery  were  doomed  to  a  dungeon  underneath^ 
dark  and  dreary,  and  well  suited  to  the  dismal  predictions  and 
fearful  threats  held  out  to  all  who  were  not  of  the  elect.  This 
recess  was  called  the  Oven  : — no  misnomer.  The  inexperienced 
of  these  comical  clergy,  who  were  not  aware  of  the  difficulty 
which  the  cakes  in  the  Oven  encountered  during  their  baking^ 


12  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

as  to  hearing  (seeing  the  preacher  was,  of  course,  out  of  the 
question),  proceeded  in  the  even  tenor  of  their  way,  apparently 
unconscious  of  their  presence,  and  certainly  taking  no  pciins  to 
convey  consolation  to  their  consciences.  But  Daddy  Berridge 
was  a  regular  old-stager.  He  was  well  aware  of  the  select 
portion  confined  in  the  black  hole,  and  had  no  idea  of  hiding  his 
candle  under  a  bushel.  He,  therefore,  when  he  had  any  choice 
bit  of  consolation*  for  his  flock,  encored  himself  in  his  most 
eloquent  passages.  Turning  his  body  entirely  round  in  the 
pulpit,  exhibiting  his  lank  desponding  visage  to  those  of  the 
gallery,  who  were  delighted  with  this  indulgence,  and  then 
dexterously  elongating  his  neck  to  the  prisoners  below,  he  would 
roar  out  the  repetition  of  his  last  sentence,  which  frequently 
reaching  their  ears  without  the  context,  could  not,  I  fear,  have 
tended  much  to  their  spiritual  comfort.  As  in  this  instance — 
*'  If,  with  these  examples  before  you, — if,  when  these  truths  are 
made  manifest, — if,  with  these  rules  laid  down  for  your  conduct, 
and  the  consequences  of  your  sins  by  such  awful  warnings  made 
clear  to  you,  you  do  not  repent,  j^ou  will  all  be  damned ;"  he 
would  elevate  his  guttural  voice  to  a  ludicrous  pitch,  peep  down 
to  the  half-stifled  wretches  underneath,  and  cry,  "  You  will  all 
be  damned, — do  ye  hear  below  ?"  This  being  all  they  heard  of 
the  sentence,  they  might  very  naturally  have  asked,  "  For 
what  ?"  He  would  cite  a  string  of  truisms  as  to  the  un- 
certainty of  life,  the  certainty  of  death,  the  necessity  for  pre- 
paration, and  with  pathetic  tones  chant  out,  "  Since  I  last 
sojourned  amongst  you,  my  worthy  brethren,  the  fell  Destroyer 
has  been  busy.  I  can  see  before  me  the  outward  symbols  of 
grieving  spirits  within— 1—2— 4— 7— 8— 10— 11— 13— 18— 22 
people  in  mourning" — (then  wheeling  to  the  right-about)  "25 — 
(left  face)  27 — 9," — then,  to  the  Oven,  "  How  many  are  there 
there  ?"  Here  again  is  the  lack  of  manner  and  tone  of  voice, 
but  I  pledge  myself  to  the  truth  of  my  description. 

Before  I  began  to  have  a  perception  of  the  ludicrous  in  these 
exhibitions,  which  perhaps  would  have  been  much  longer  in  being 
formed  but  for  my  occasional  visits  to  St.  Martin's  Church  with 
my  mother,  Berridge's  Johnsonian  wig  awed  me,  and  I  was 
strongly  impressed  with  the  belief  that  these  Brimstonians  were 
right,  and  all  others  wrong. 

Notwithstanding  my  childish  wonderment  at  these  proceed- 
ings, I  had  a  strong  bias  to  proceed  in  what  I  have  since  believed 
the  wrong  path.  I  was,  between  the  ages  of  eight  and  thirteen, 
as  complete  a  little  bigot  as  ever  was  begotten  by  gloom,  envy, 


CHAKLES  MATHEWS.  18 

and  spleen,  a  thorough-going  melancholy  fanatic  in  embryo. 
My  charity  was  that  of  the  fraternity,  for  I  not  only  believed  in 
fire  and  torments  being  prepared  for  all  who  were  not  of  "  the 
elect,"  but  most  devoutly  hoped  it ;  and  I  think  it  fair  to  infer, 
if  the  doctrines  which  I  heard  produced  this  species  of  feeling 
in  my  mind,  that  such  must  always  be  their  effect  on  the 
ignorant  and  uneducated.  I  shall  relate  presently  an  anecdote 
where  these  feelings  came  into  full  play.  But  first  for  a  more 
natural  as  well  as  more  amiable  passion — incipient  love. 

About  this  period  there  was  a  little  saint  of  the  name  of 
Chater.  Brother  Chater,  her  father,  was  a  manufacturer  of  iron- 
work for  coachmakers.  I  had  "  wrestled^""  with  her  at  some  of 
the  love-feasts,  and  I  was  just  old  enough  to  regret  we  were  so 
far  apart  during  the  wrestling.  I  therefore  began  to  think  I  was 
in  love.  Gravity  begets  gravity,  and  my  sister  in  the  faith  and 
I  ogled  each  other  most  piously.  The  first  time  I  ever  attempted 
to  wrestle  with  her  in  her  father's  house,  I  received  a  most  mor- 
tifying check — not  from  herself — oh  no  !  I  was  too  young  to 
declare  my  passion  ;  but  I  had  hoped  to  recommend  myself  to 
her  regard  and  insinuate  myself  into  her  affections  by  the  force 
of  melody.  The  charms  of  music  were  summoned  to  my  aid.  I 
popped  my  flute  into  my  pocket  and  paid  her  a  visit.  Her 
mother  was  gone  to  a  ^^  T  and  B'^  (Tea  and  Bible),  and  her 
father,  as  vve  hoped,  with  her.  I  had  just  prevailed  upon  my  fair 
one  to  try  a  newly-published  song  on  the  pianoforte,  while  I 
accompanied  her  on  the  flute,  when  the  enraged  father  rushed 
in,  and,  with  all  the  meekness  and  courtesy  which  such  Chris- 
tians profess,  called  me  by  every  sort  of  opprobrious  name,  boxed 
my  ears,  seized  my  hat,  thrust  it  rudely  on  my  head,  gave  one 
of  his  own  sledge-hammer  knocks  on  the  top  which  forced  lining 
and  all  over  my  eyes,  and  caused  me  to  try  to  escape  with  the 
swimming  sort  of  action  peculiar  to  blindman's  buff,  pushed  me 
from  the  room,  and  literally  kicked  me  out  of  the  house — and  all 
because  he  caught  me  in  the  fact  of  playing  "  a  song-^oo;j"  as 
he  called  it,  and  "  corrupting  his  darter's  mind*'  by  leading  her 
into  the  same  sinful  course.  "  Keep  your  deviFs  toons  to  your- 
self, you  young  varmin  !  don't  come  'ere  with  your  Beelzebub's 
jigs.  None  o'  Satan's  'ymns  'ere !  take  'em  to  'is  hown  'ouses 
— there's  one  close  by  in  Common  Garden.  Shan't  play  none  of 
your  imperance  to  debauch  my  gal's  mind  wi' !  Go  out,  I  say ! 
and  I'll  throw  your  fife  out  a  vinder  arter  you."  Brother 
Cahusac's  patent  keyed  flute  to  be  called  ajife  !  "  Barbarous 
blacksmith!"    thought    I,    "never    more    will    I    endure    the 


14  THE  LIFEl  AND  COKRESPONDENCE  OF 

wrestlings  of  your  daughter  after  the  indignity  bestowed  by 
your  iron  fist.  Sweetest  specimens  of  a  saint-like  coach-and-cart- 
spring  maker,  adieu !" 

Was  not  this  enough  to  check  my  musical  studies  in  their 
early  growth,  to  damp  my  ardour  and  destroy  my  enthusiasm 
for  ever  ?     No. 

About  this  very  period  I  made  "my  first  appearance  in 
public"  at  my  father's  chapel  at  Whetstone,  where  he  preached 
every  Sunday. 

"Brother  Oodard"  (Woodward),  the  butcher,  who  was  my 
father's  clerk,  suggested  that  a  "  hopposition  to  the  horgan  of 
the  church,"  though  in  a  minor  way,  might  be  attractive.  He 
had  a  son  "as  fiddled,"  and  Wilson,  the  cobbler,  was  reckoned 
a  capital  hand  at  the  bassoon ;  "  and  if  Master  Charles  would 
but  jine  'em  and  play  the  flute,"  what  an  effective  orchestra  might 
be  formed  without  trouble  or,  expense  !  The  scheme  was  im- 
mediately carried  into  execution;  we  had  several  " practizings," 
as  Woodward  called  them,  which  made  no  little  noise  in  the 
village,  and  our  first  public  performance  being  announced  by 
whisperings  into  the  ears  of  the  pious  only  (as  we  hoped),  the 
meeting  was  crowded  to  suffocation — literally  "  overflowed,"  as 
the  playbills  have  it. 

Pope's  "  Vital  spark  of  heavenly  flame"  was  the  piece  selected 
for  our  dehut ;  and  1  can  as  perfectly  recollect  as  I  can  any  event 
within  one  week  of  the  time  of  my  penning  this,  the  arrange- 
ment I  made  for  "a  good  part,"  as  the  actors  would  say;  I 
mean,  the  care  and  caution  I  used  to  make  the  flute  the  "  first 
fiddle  ]^—flauto  primo  was  not  enough  for  my  inordinate  am- 
bition. Now,  as  this  was  a  ^'■four-part  song^''  as  our  choristers 
called  it,  we  expressly  forbade  the  rest  of  the  congregation  from 
joining  in  until  the  whole  had  been  sung  through  once  ,  and  then 
they  were  to  sing  chorus  only.  I  had  been  a  principal  singer  in 
this  really  beautiful  piece  of  music  before  we  aspired  to  instru- 
mental accompaniment ;  but  here  came  the  puzzle.  I  had  been 
primo  tenore,  and  "  Brother  Wizzun"  had  a  "barrow-tone"  voice 
which  he  made  bass  for  Sundays,  I  presume,  by  the  old-esta- 
blished mode  of  getting  his  feet  well  wet  on  Saturday  evening. 
The  interesting  elder  butcher  had  a  counter-tenor  part.  Our 
first  notion  was  to  accompany  ourselves  ;  but  we  forgot,  in  the 
enthusiasm  of  the  moment,  that  those  who  had  to  play  the  wind- 
instruments  could  not  conveniently  play  and  sing  at  the  same 
time.  The  junior  slaughterer  Oodard  had  here  an  advantage. 
Many  a  blind  minstrel  had  given  him  a  hint  that  to  sing  and 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  15 

fiddle  together  was  practicable ;  but  tve  did  not  produce  sweet 
sounds  by  force  of  elbow,  but  by  dint  of  lungs,  and  I  was  emulous 
to  exhibit  my  twofold  accomplishments — I  considered  myself  as 
the  principal  performer,  and  I  would  be  heard.  If  I  was  to  be 
merely  an  accompanyist,  who  was  to  sing  my  old  part  ?  At  last 
it  was  agreed  that  the  fame  we  had  already  acquired  by  our  vocal 
performances  was  not  to  be  compromised,  and  an  ingenious  ar- 
rangement was  made  to  satisfy  all  parties.  There  were  fugue 
passages,  symphonies,  &c.  ;  and  the  cobbler  and  myself,  with  an 
enthusiasm  never  to  be  sufficiently  commended,  so  contrived  that 
we  made  some  of  the  bumpkins  believe  that  we  sang  and  played 
at  one  and  the  same  time.  I  wish  it  were  within  the  power  of 
my  pen  to  give  effect  to  this  scene  ;  it  requires  the  aid  of  prac- 
tical and  vocal  elucidation  to  convey  it  with  full  force. 

This  was  a  great  musical  epoch  in  Whetstone,  the  march  of 
music  at  the  first  stage  on  the  high  North  Road.  It  made  a 
stirring  sensation  in  our  community,  and  I  hoped,  if  not  believed, 
that  the  Steepleites  would  be  jealous :  I  felt  persuaded  that  se- 
ceders  from  the  Church  must  be  the  consequence.  I  was  com- 
plimented by  my  saintly  friends,  and  old  Woodward  was  so  pleased 
with  my  enthusiasm  in  the  good  cause,  that  he  respectfully  in- 
vited me  to  see  a  bullock  killed  on  Monday  at  eleven  precisely, 
"  God  willing."  I  wished  that  Sister  Chater  could  have  been 
present  to  witness  the  effect  produced  by  the  very  instrument 
which  her  father  had  so  contumeliously  termed  a  fife.  But  his 
assault  on  the  drum  of  my  ear  with  his  metallic  fingers  had  been 
resented  by  my  father,  and  the  families  never  met  afterwards. 
Our  separation  had  cooled  the  ardour  of  my  regard  for  her,  and 
I  soon  discovered  that  I  had  not  really  loved  ;  for  I  was  almost 
immediately  afterwards  struck  dumb  by  the  beauty  of  another 
little  saint  in  petticoats.  She  was  exceedingly  pretty  and  good- 
tempered. 

Sister  Hallows  was  the  daughter  of  a  rich  ribbon-weaver,  who 
had  his  country-house  near  my  father's,  and  was  one  of  his 
flock.  I  became  as  desperately  enamoured  as  a  boy  of  my  age 
could  well  be,  and  am  compelled  now  to  confess  that  she  was 
really  my  first  love.  I  was  constant ;  but  "  let  concealment, 
like  a  worm  in  the  bud,"  fester  my  heart — I  had  not  courage,  at 
sixteen,  to  declare  my  passion.  She  was  three  or  four  years 
older  than  myself,  and  never,  I  dare  say,  bestowed  a  thought 
upon  me.  I  sighed  at  humble  distance  until  she  was  torn  from 
me  by  a  ruddy  handsome  young  farmer,  and  1  left  to  mourn  my 
loss  unpitied. 


16  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

I  introduce  this  story  of  my  seared  affections  here,  as  I  so 
fully  recollect  that  my  eyes  alternated  from  the  notes  to  her 
beaming  countenance,  watching  every  expression,  and  anxious 
for  her  approving  smile.  Little  did  any  of  these  parties  think 
to  what  all  this  might  lead !  Trifles  are  the  pivots  on  which 
turn  all  the  vast  wheels  of  that  complicated  machine  called 
society.  Had  I  never  played  the  flute  in  chapel  I  might  have 
remained  in  ignorance  of  the  word  fame,  or  its  soul-inspiring 
power.  Had  I  not  received  the  plaudits  of  Whetstone  bumpkins, 
I  might  at  this  moment  have  been  addressing  their  descendants 
from  the  self-same  tub.  But  I  had  a  soul  above  tubs.  These 
meeds  of  approbation  so  flatteringly  bestowed  upon  my  musical 
exertions  were  the  first  dawning  indications  I  had  of  the  value 
of  applause.  The  seeds  of  ambition  were  here  sown  in  my  young 
heart.  Emulation  fired  me  ;  I  had  an  immediate  desire  to  rival 
the  violinist.  I  occasionally  had  a  ride  in  his  cart  as  he  went 
his  rounds  of  Fryern-Barnet  and  Totteridge  Grreen.  I  was 
envious  of  his  accomplishments.  He  sometimes  took  his  fiddle 
with  him.  I  drove  while  he  treated  me  with  a  "  song-tune." 
Then,  when  he  stayed  long  from  his  vehicle — sometimes  "  a 
hilling  time,^''  while  he  poked  a  family -pig  out  of  the  world — I 
would  seize  up  the  instrument,  and  wish  that  "  Heaven  had 
made  me  such  a  fiddler!"  I  was  too  proud  to  be  taught  by 
him,  and  dreaded  a  refusal  from  my  father  if  I  petitioned  for  a 
fiddle.  Alas  !  good  man,  I  wronged  him  !  I  was  not  then  alive 
to  the  liberality  of  his  mind.  How  could  I  know,  in  those 
tender  years,  that  he  did  not  take  his  tone  from  those  who  were 
feeding  upon  him  ?  I  was  not  aware  with  what  nicety  of  dis- 
crimination he  separated  the  ore  of  pure  piety  from  the  dross  of 
blasphemy  and  hypocrisy.  He  had  no  persecution  in  his  heart — 
Jie  breathed,  preached,  and  practised  charity ! 

The  "flouters  at  our  solemnities,"  the  "  Steepleites,"  as  I 
contemptuously  termed  those  whom  I  had  not  yet  learned  to 
respect,  were  of  course  an  opposite  faction  in  the  village  ;  and 
the  customers  of  the  rival  butchers  and  bakers  were  almost  all 
influenced  by  their  party  feelings  and  religious  prejudices.  The 
church-goers  did  not  patronize  Woodward,  and  the  chapelites 
would  not  eat  of  the  bread  made  by  the  episcopalian  baker.  The 
feuds  created  by  this  twofold  persecution  must  be  manifest.  I 
seldom  passed  through  the  place  without  some  petty  insult. 
"Ah,  there  goes  the  Methodist  parson's  son!"  "Ah,  fifer!" 
"There  goes  a  psalm-singer!"  &c.  Some  of  the  rival  faction 
had  determined  to  kidnap  me  and  carry  me  off  vi  et  armis  to 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  17 

Enfield  races.  The  plot  was  deeply  laid — their  plan  organized 
with  care.  A  Mr.  Lawson,  the  son  of  a  most  respectable  shop- 
keeper in  the  parish,  with  whom  my  mother  dealt,  though  he 
did  not  go  to  chapel  (for  be  it  understood,  that  though  my 
mother  attended  the  parish  church  in  London,  she  could  not 
with  decency  appear  to  act  in  opposition  to  my  father  on  h\^ 
own  ground,  where  all  eyes  were  on  her) — Mr.  Lawson,  then,, 
who  was  a  gentleman  compared  with  most  of  those  who  joined 
in  the  conspiracy  against  "  Our  Home,^'  proposed  to  treat  me  to 
the  races,  and  drive  me  there  and  back.  He  undertook  to  gain 
my  mother's  consent,  and,  to  my  astonishment,  her  "  slow  leave" 
was  given  ;  though  the  rest  of  the  party  had  predetermined  that, 
if  not  accorded,  I  should  go  without. 

Behold  me,  then,  at  my  first  race  !  It  would  be  absurd  to 
attempt  to  describe  now  what  I  felt  then.  I  do  not  affect  to 
recollect  the  name  of  a  horse  or  the  colour  of  a  rider ;  but  I  do 
remember  that  these  "terrible,  terrible  high-bred  cattle,"  being 
the  first  racing-blood  I  had  ever  seen,  had  such  an  inspiring 
effect,  that  I  was  then  and  there  inoculated  with  a  mania  that 
has  prevailed  until  this  hour.  Yes !  lame  and  worn  as  I  am,  I 
admit  no  difficulty — I  allow  of  no  impediment — I  am  indifferent 
as  to  distance — but  to  the  races  I  must  go,  whether  Doncaster 
or  Epsom,  Leger  or  Derby.  I  have  left  Glasgow  with  the  penalty 
attached  of  two  nights'  travelling,  in  order  to  be  at  Newmai'ket 
on  Easter  Monday,  and  have  witnessed  twenty-five  contests  for 
Derby  and  Oaks  since  1803.  I  have  frequently  ridden  on  horse- 
back from  London  to  the  neighbourhood  of  Epsom  at  night  after 
my  performance,  to  sup  with  friends,  rather  than  encounter  the 
dust  of  the  roads  on  the  "  great  day,"  as  it  is  called.  This  will 
show  that  my  enthusiasm  is  not  abated. 

Can  it  be  wondered  at  that  I,  who  had  been  debarred  from  any 
of  the  most  trivial  amusement  or  relaxation  from  school-fagging, 
should  be  dancing  mad  with  joy  at  such  an  exhilarating  ex- 
hibition, the  first  of  any  sort  1  had  ever  witnessed  ?  But  for 
my  adventure. 

The  races  were  over,  and  my  anxiety  for  return  was  im- 
mediate. I  apprehended  darkness,  robbery,  upsettings — my 
mother's  alarm  if  I  should  not  be  at  home  by  the  promised  hour. 
I  urged  all  this  to  my  companions,  but  in  vain.  They  had  not 
studied  to  amuse  me  only,  but  themselves  also.  The  sports  were 
now  to  commence  with  them.  Then,  as  now,  my  pleasure  for 
the  day  finished  with  the  last  race.  All  my  enjoyment  had 
ceased  with  the  shout  which  proclaimed  the  winner.     I  was  at 

C 


18  THE  LIFE  AND  COERESPONDENCE  OF 

the  mercy  of  the  party,  but  I  had  faith  in  my  protector  and  guide. 
It  was  agreed  they  must  dine  there,  and  go  home  afterwards.  A 
booth  was  chosen,  and  dinner  was  succeeded  by  punch.  It  was 
no  difficult  task  to  intoxicate  a  boy  of  my  age.  I  was  hardly 
aware  of  the  probable  consequences  of  the  tempting  but  trea- 
cherous beverage.  They  had  resolved  upon  making  me  dead- 
drunk,  and  I  hiccuped  out,  "No  more!  no  more!"  till  I  was 
nearly  no  more  myself.  All  I  remember  from  the  time  the  bac- 
chanalians ordered  in  a  fresh  bowl  was  their  noisy  chorus  of 
"  Drunk,  drunk,  drunk."  My  lifeless  body  was,  taken  out  of  the 
gig  and  carried  in  triumph  on  their  shoulders  through  the  village, 
some  of  them  singing,  in  ridicule  of  the  music  in  which  I  had  so 
distinguished  myself,  "  Vital  spark,"  &c.  In  this  way  I  was 
chaired  round  the  place  like  a  successful  member — like  him  re- 
ceiving additional  shouts  when  we  passed  the  houses  of  obnoxious 
politicians — till,  wearied  with  their  midnight  orgies,  and  their 
carrying  me  like  Guy  Fawkes  about  the  streets,  they  shot  me  out 
of  my  triumphal  car  at  my  father's  cottage-door. 


I 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  19 


CHAPTER  III. 

Merchant  Tailors'  School — Flogging — Serjeant  Pell — William  Mathews — Eeli- 
gious  experience — Saintly  epistles — Religious  fanaticism — Pious  tracts 
with  odd  titles — Huntington  the  coalheaver,  and  his  miracles — Rowland 
Hill — Popular  preaching. 

I  WAS  now  transplanted  from  Dominie  the  fla^ellator's  garden 
of  knowledge  in  St.  Martin' s-in-the-Fields,  to  Merchant  Tailors' 
School,  to  gain  what  Pope  so  aptly  terms  "a  dangerous  thing," 
a  little  learning.*  This  was  about  the  year  1786.  Bishop,  the 
head  master,  wore  a  huge  powdered  wig,  larger  than  any  other 
bishop's  wig.  It  invited  invasion,  and  we  shot  paper  darts  with 
such  singular  dexterity  into  the  protruding  bush  behind,  that  it 
looked  like  "  a  fretful  porcupine."  He  had  chalkstone  knuckles 
too,  which  he  used  to  rap  on  my  head  like  a  bag  of  marbles,  and 
eccentric  as  it  may  appear,  pinching  was  his  favourite  amuse- 
ment, which  he  brought  to  great  perfection.  There  were  six 
forms  ;  I  entered  the  school  at  the  lowest,  and  got  no  higher  than 
the  fifth,  but  was  of  course  alternately  under  the  care  and  tuition 
of  the  four  masters.  Gardner,  the  lowest  in  grade,  was  the  only 
mild  person  amongst  them ;  the  others  had  a  little  too  much, 
and  perhaps  he  had  much  too  little,  of  the  severe  in  him  for  hig 
station.  Two  more  cruel  tyrants  than  Bishop  and  Hose  never 
existed.  They  were  great  "  deck- walkers,"  as  I  have  always 
designated  those  public  nuisances,  who,  regardless  of  the  fidgets 
of  poor  nervous  wretches  like  myself,  mercilessly  pace  up  and 
down  apartments,  inflicting  pangs  unutterable  on  those  who  dare 
not  roar  out,  "  Sit  down,  sir  !"  as  old  Sam  Johnson  did.  Lord, 
the  fourth  master,  was  rather  an  invalid,  and,  I  believe,  had  been 
prescribed  gentle  exercise  ;  he  therefore  put  up  for,  and  was  the 
successful  candidate  for,  the  flogging  department.  Rose  was 
so  great  an  adept  at  the  cane,  that  I  once  saw  a  boy  strip, 
after  a  thrashing  from  him,  that  he  might  expose  his  barbarous 

*  The  most  talented  * '  entertainment" -girer  of  our  days,  Mr.  Albert  Smith, 
-was  also  educated  at  Merchant  Tailors'. 

c2 


20  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

cruelty,  when  the  back  was  actually  striped  with  dark  streaks 
like  a  zebra. 

Before  I  left  the  school,  the  pupils  had  the  satisfaction  of  wit- 
nessing the  administration  of  the  lex  talionis  in  a  most  sum- 
mary and  somewhat  awful  manner.  The  boy  I  spoke  of,  like 
Zanga,  remembered  "  the  blow,"  and  on  proceeding  to  college, 
kept  up  the  recollection  of  this  most  gratuitous  barbarity ;  for, 
shortly  afterwards,  he  came  into  the  cloisters  during  a  play- 
hour,  went  to  Rose's  apartment,  lured  him  to  the  door  of  it, 
and  horse-whipped  him  there  before  the  admiring  and  approving^ 
scholars  until  he  roared  for  mercy. 

This  gave  occasion  to  the  abolition  of  flogging  in  this  school ; 
for,  the  next  time  Lord  made  the  attempt,  at  a  concerted  signal 
(the  rebellion  had  been  long  in  preparation),  all  the  boys,  to 
the  number  of  two  hundred,  rushed  from  the  school-room  into 
the  lobby,  where  punishment  was  usually  inflicted,  hustled  the 
pedagogue,  rescued  the  victim,  and  scattered  the  birch  into  frag- 
ments, each  one  carrying  off  a  twig  in  token  of  victory.  We 
then  returned  into  school  with  perfect  coolness,  having  an- 
nounced our  determination  una  voce  never  again  to  submit  to 
such  a  degradation.  To  this  arrangement  the  heads  were  com- 
pelled to  submit ;  for  so  well  was  the  spirited  measure  organized, 
and  so  completely  carried  into  effect,  that  no  ringleader  could 
be  pointed  out  as  an  example,  and  nothing  short  of  the  expulsion 
of  the  whole  number  could  have  been  resorted  to.  The  affair, 
therefore,  was  hushed  up.  There  were  young  men  from  seven- 
teen to  nineteen  years  of  age,  just  ripe  for  college — amongst 
them  my  brother  and  Serjeant  Pell  (in  our  eyes  men),  and  other 
stout  fellows — who  swelled  the  ranks  of  the  rebels. 

William,  my  brother,  was  my  senior  by  seven  years,  and,  being 
intended  for  the  church,  of  course  looked  to  a  college  education. 
Thus  did  my  father  strike  a  fatal  blow  at  his  own  peace.  He 
created  a  mortifying  distinction  between  the  rank  in  society  of 
his  two  sons — the  eldest  a  gentleman,  the  youngest  a  tradesman. 
Having  made  up  his  mind  to  "  cramp  my  genius"  behind  a 
counter,  he  was  imprudent  in  sending  me  to  a  public  school. 

My  dear  and  excellent  brother  had  great  natural  talents,  and 
was  indefatigable  in  his  search  after  knowledge.  He  was  essen- 
tially a  gentleman  in  all  his  feelings  ;  and  his  earliest  associates 
were  high,  if  not  in  rank,  certainly  in  talent.  The  pursuits  that 
engaged  him  were  not  those  of  other  youths ;  he  was  devoted  to 
profound  and  abstruse  studies,  mathematics,  and  had  an  absolute 
thirst  for  languages,  six  of  which  he  could  speak  or  read  before 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  21 

he  was  twenty  years  of  age.  To  gain  perfection  in  these,  his 
time  was  occupied  day  after  day,  night  after  night.  The  school 
exercises,  of  course,  were  only  Latin,  Greek,  and  Hebrew; 
French  was  supphed  by  my  father's  means ;  but  at  the  time  I 
was  young  enough  to  sleep  in  the  same  room  with  him,  he  rose 
at  four  or  five  o'clock  in  the  morning  to  study  Italian  and 
Spanish ;  of  which  pursuits  he  was  so  unostentatious,  that  he 
threatened  me  with  the  penalty  of  his  displeasure  if  I  revealed 
to  any  one  the  hours  he  stole  from  sleep.  Thus  qualified  at  a 
very  early  age,  he  entered  Pembroke  College,  Cambridge,  already 
an  accomplished  gentleman. 

If  constant  trials — if  application — if  marching  and  counter- 
marching could  have  made  a  scholar  of  me,  I  ought  to  have  been 
an  Admirable  Crichton.  At  seven  I  started  for  the  east  end  ; 
at  eleven  I  came  out  of  school,  and  went  to  another  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood for  writing  and  accounts,  and  to  a  French  school  in 
the  evening. 

On  Saturday,  during  nine  months  of  the  year,  I  went  to 
Whetstone,  and  stayed  till  Monday  morning.  This  escape  from 
all  descriptions  of  fagging,  and  from  confinement — this  freedom 
of  body  and  soul  from  the  fetters  of  scholastic  discipline — the 
contrast  between  the  narrow  dirty  lane  where  the  school  was 
situated,  and  the  pure  air  I  breathed  in  my  beloved  little  village, 
was  such  a  joyous  emancipation,  that  the  impression  has  dwelt 
in  my  memory  to  the  present  hour  ;  and  I  feel  the  same  impulse 
to  escape  from  London  with  all  its  attractions,  and  revel  in 
country  pleasures,  that  I  did  when  I  was  a  schoolboy.  Indeed, 
every  feeling,  every  propensity  or  peculiarity,  I  can  trace  to  im- 
pressions formed  in  my  school-days.  During  my  first  engage- 
ment in  Drury-lane  Theatre  I  lived  at  Colney  Hatch,  and  in  all 
weathers  returned  home  after  the  play,  about  eight  miles,  and 
over  Finchley  Common,  in  an  open  carriage  ;  this  was  from  pure 
love  of  the  country.  Four  years  I  lived  at  Fulham,  and  paid 
the  same  midnight  visits,  frequently  on  horseback,  to  my  house ; 
and  fourteen  years  at  Kentish  Town  (commonly  called  Highgate 
by  my  visitors,  and  not  unfrequently  Hampstead*)  ;  and  I  can 
truly  say,  that  the  same  feelings  pervade  nie  at  this  moment. 
Without  enumerating  my  list  of  objections  to  all  large  cities, 
and  more  particularly  to  London,  I  can  only  assert  that  I  always 
turn  my  back  upon  it  with  pleasure  when  I  have  anything  lika 
rural  enjoyment  in  prospect. 

*  Mr.  Mathews'  house  was  situated  in  Mill-Field -lane,  which  is  just  above 
Highgate  Eise,  on  the  hill  between  Kentish  Town  and  Highgate. 


22  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

What  an  almost  universal  feeling  is  the  regard  for  our  native 
place !  I  have  no  such  sentiment,  unfortunately,  and  yet  I 
could  never  have  been  callous  on  such  a  subject,  or  have  revisited 
the  scenes  of  my  childhood  without  emotion,  associated  as  they 
were  with  the  pleasing  dreams  of  youth,  of  beloved  relatives  now 
no  more,  or  partners  in  school-tasks  now  toiling  in  far-distant 
climes,  or  "  seeking  the  bubble  reputation."  I  feel  nothing  of 
all  this  on  entering  my  "  native  village."  Its  huge  masses  of 
unfeeling  brick  and  stone  inspire  me  with  frigid  indifference  as  to 
the  street  in  which  I  first  saw  light.  'Tis  death  to  the  senti- 
mental. Ah !  how  different  wQien  the  associations  can  be  con- 
centrated within  the  compass  of  a  quiet,  secluded  hamlet !  I 
never  whisk  through  dear  Whetstone  in  his  Majesty's  mail,  that 
I  do  not  gaze  right  and  left  on  some  object  that  brings  to  me 
pleasing  as  well  as  melancholy  recollections  of  the  past :  I  feel 
that  this  is  in  reality  my  native  place. 

How  many  there  are  who  assert  that  our  school-days  are  the 
happiest  of  our  lives  !  The  happiest  of  mine  were  in  flying j^om 
school — when,  feeling  the  value  of  my  wings,  I  soared  for  two 
days  weekly  in  the  picturesque  beauty  of  Totteridge  and  its 
neighbourhood,  with  the  penalty,  as  I  at  last  thought  it,  of  a 
sermon  of  one  hour  and  forty  minutes  from  my  father  on 
Sunday. 

I  have  already  observed  on  my  incipient  fanaticism.  It  was 
not  until  my  removal  to  Merchant  Tailors'  that  I  began  to  waver 
in  my  faith.  The  taunts  of  my  schoolfellows,  my  mother's  oppo- 
sition, my  brother's  thorough  contempt  for  the  whole  ignorant 
crew  that  he  well  remembered,  first  awakened  my  attention.  On 
his  visits  at  home  during  the  Terms,  my  mother  was  always  pre- 
pared with  a  budget  of  "  gospel-grievances."  "  Gospel,"  that  was 
the  grand  and  leading  watchword  of  the  conspirators.  "  The 
Church  of  England  clergy  are  not  gospel  preachers ;"  such  was 
their  cant.  Then,  again,  the  depredations  on  my  poor  father's 
purse  —  the  subscriptions,  the  "mites  for  missionaries,"  the 
building  and  rebuilding  chapels,  the  "  accommodation  paper," 
&c.,  were  naturally  sources  of  disgust  to  my  mother.  These 
vacation  visits  brought  me  in  closer  contact  with  my  brother 
than  I  had  ever  been  before,  and  the  periodical  pourings  forth  of 
a  sad  spirit,  and  the  union  of  sentiment  between  himself  and  my 
mother,  made  me  seriously  incline  to  hear,  if  not  devour  up,  their 
discourse. 

The  following  specimen  of  style  will  suffice  to  j  ustify  my  general 
assertions  of  the  prevailing  ignorance  and  indecent  use  of  the 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  23 

name  of  the  Deity  on  all  familiar  occasions.  The  date  of  the 
letter,  which  is  faithfully  copied,  will  explain  that  I  obtained  pos- 
session of  it  many  years  after  the  period  just  spoken  of,  from  my 
father,  to  whom  it  was  addressed  on  the  sudden  death  of  one  of 
his  servants. 

Me.  Mathus 
My  veeey  dear  Fbinds 

I  simpothis  with  you  under  this  verey  sollom  providenc  the  deth  of 
your  survant,  may  our  all  wis  Covenet  God  by  His  blesied  Spirrit  san- 
tefey  it;  to  Every  one  of  you  and  my  famley  may  owr  gratious  Lord 
fill  our  souls  with  the  oyell  of  his  gras  that  we  may  allwayes  be  redey 
We  mest  you  last  Nigt  but  the  Lord  wos  with  us  may  He  Espeselly 
be  with  you  and  der  Mrs.  Mathus  your  der  Child  and  famley  under 
this  Visettation  prayes  your  ffnat  Br.  in  a  der  Kedemer. 

lo  Hill. 

Dr.  Ferean  of  No  3  Lams  Condict  plase  tould  me  yesterday  he  wos 
goin  to  part  with  a  good  yong  womon  his  housmaid  if  you  thougt 
proper  to  inquier  after  hor  you  are  welcom  to  maik  yous  of  my  Name. 

6th  Jany.  1804. 

I  am  not  disposed  now  to  speak  with  severity  of  any  sect  or 
sects  ;  there  is  good  in  all :  but  1  have  evidence  of  the  hollowness 
of  the  many  I  knew,  and  I  am  positive  that  the  persecutions  of 
some  of  the  persons  I  treat  of  drove  me  from  my  home,  and  my 
brother  from  his  original  profession.  Their  ignorance,  their  hatred 
of  those  who  differed  from  them,  their  intolerance,  and  their 
scandalous  mountebank  tricks  in  the  pulpit,  I  have  a  right  to 
comment  upon,  and  I  shall  die  in  the  belief  that  such  familiar 
uses  of  the  name  of  the  Almighty  as  are  exemplified  in  the 
pawnbroker's  letter  are  blasphemous ;  and  the  eloquence  of  the 
first  advocate  in  existence  cannot  persuade  me  that  these  men 
were  not  in  the  constant  habit  of  violating  the  third  command- 
ment. 

My  mother's  visits  to  St.  Martin's  and  other  churches  gave 
me  many  opportunities  of  hearing  eminent  divines,  from  which 
my  father's  pursuits  would  have  debarred  me.  I  was  therefore  a 
listener  in  public  and  private,  between  the  ages  of  ten  and  seven- 
teen, when  my  mind  was  somewhat  capable  of  reflection,  to  the 
various  and  complicated  tenets  and  doctrines  of  more  than  half 
a  score  of  disputants,  for  all  the  persons  1  am  about  to  name,  with 
numbers  whom  I  have  forgotten,  met  at  my  father's  house  and 
lorestled  most  vigorously.  From  day  to  day  they  brawled,  as  if 
the  best  use  to  be  made  of  religion  was  to  quarrel  about  it ;  and 
what  they  were  wrangling  for  1  never  knew,  nor  do  I  to  this 


24i  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

hour.  I  had,  however,  the  opportunity  of  hearing,  amongst  other 
eminent  men  and  writers  on  theology,  John  Wesley,  Romaine, 
DeCoetlogon,  Dr.Madan,  Toplady,  Rowland  Hill,  Cecil,  Cadogan, 
&c.  &c. ;  and  they  were  among  the  first  gentlemen  I  had  seen. 
The  clearly-drawn  line  of  demarcation  between  these  and  the 
vulgar  herd  that  embittered  my  life,  and  eventually  drove  me 
from  my  family  fireside,  added  to  my  mother's  example  and  high 
bearing  towards  them,  and  her  sincere  attachment  to  the  Church 
of  England,  may  account  for  my  vacillations,  and  my  ultimately 
settling  down  as  a  true  and  I  hope  sincere  member  of  the  esta- 
blished religion. 

The  bitterness  with  which  I  write  of  the  canting  hypocrites 
who  infested  my  father's  house  will,  I  trust,  be  excused  in  consi- 
deration of  the  cruel  persecutions  I  suffered  at  their  hands.  His 
was,  in  fact,  a  sort  of  house-of-call  for  sanctified  fiddlers,  holy 
hosiers,  pious  pedlars,  and  beatified  butchers — for  preachers  of 
the  Huntingtonian,  Wesleyan,  Whitfieldean,  Cantadean  sects. 
Lane  at  the  Minerva  press  issued  nothing  but  novels  ;  my  father 
was  as  well  known  for  religious  publications — he  was  the  serious 
publisher.  I  wish  I  could  recollect  the  titles  of  one  half  of  these 
"  pious  tracts,"  as  they  were  called :  some  of  the  works  which  he 
published  are  now  in  existence,  and  I  have  seen  them  lately  ; 
others  I  remember  well,  such  as  "  Deep  Things  of  God,  or  Milk 
and  Strong  Meat  for  Babes  and  Fathers  in  Christ;"  "Nine 
Points  to  tie  up  a  Believer's  Small-clothes ;"  "  Collins'  Spouse 
under  the  Apple-tree ;"  "  Hooks  and  Eyes  for  Believers' 
Breeches;"  "A  High-heeled  Shoe  for  a  Limping  Christian." 
Some  I,  a  profane  person  in  their  eyes,  think  too  blasphemous 
to  be  recorded,  and  one  of  Bunyan's  too  indecent  to  pollute  my 
pages  with. 

There  was  a  coalheaver,  one  Huntington,  a  pretty  specimen  of 
the  mechanics  I  have  spoken  of — he  who  added  S.  S.  to  his  name, 
which  he  intended  to  mean  Sinner  Saved;  but  as  even  my 
father's  waggery  extended  to  another  interpretation,  I  may  ven- 
ture upon  it.  He  one  night  came  home  from  a  "  Religious  Ex- 
perience and  Christians'  Confessing  Benefit  Club,"  and  found 
Huntington  making  love  to  his  cook  in  the  kitchen — "  basting 
her  with  the  hoyle  of  salivation,"  as  he  said.  My  father,  in  great 
indignation,  literally  pushed  him  out  of  the  house.  I  beheve 
he  gave  him  a  kick,  and  as  he  sleeked  his  coahblack  hair 
with  his  dusty  paws  and  their  ebony  terminations,  about  to 
excuse  himself,  my  father  exclaimed, "  William  Huntington,  S.  S. 
Sad  Scoundrel.^^ 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  25 

The  disgusting  sang-froid  with  which  the  same  Huntington 
used  to  speak  of  his  actual  colloquial  intercourse  with  the  Deity 
would  not  be  believed  if  related  by  a  mere  hearer,  had  he  not  put 
it  beyond  doubt  by  publishing  his  blasphemies  years  after  I  heard 
him  spout  forth  his  fiendish  threats. 

I  find  whole  passages,  with  which  I  «sed  to  amwse  my  school- 
fellows in  imitation  of  the  Coalheaver,  in  his  printed  works. 
"  He,  good  man  !  was  ashamed  of  nothing ;"  and  so  he  has  put 
on  record  innumerable  lies  of  his  dreams,  conversations  with  the 
Almighty,  &c.  In  order  to  bear  out  my  assertions  of  the  infamy 
of  this  man,  I  shall  copy  two  or  three  specimens  of  what  I  have 
repeatedly  heard  from  him,  as  published  by  himself  subsequently 
in  his  "  Bank  of  Faith." 

"  During  the  space  of  three  years,"  says  this  Sinner  Saved, 
"  I  secretly  wished  in  my  soul  that  Grod  would  favour  me  with 
a  chapel  of  my  own,  being  sick  of  the  errors  that  were  per- 
petually broached  by  some  one  or  other  in  St.  Margaret's  Chapel, 
where  I  then  preached ;  yet  I  could  not  ask  God  for  such  a 
favour,  thinking  it  was  not  to  be  brought  about  by  one  so  very 
mean,  low,  and  poor  as  m^^self.  However,  God  sent  a  person 
unknown  to  me  to  look  at  a  certain  spot,  and  afterwards  took 
me  to  lox)k  at  it.  God  stirred  up  a  wise  man  to  offer  to  build  a 
chapel,  and  to  manage  the  whole  work  .without  -fee  or  reward. 
God  drew  the  pattern  in  his  imagination  while  he  was  hearing 
me  preach  a  sermon.  I  then  took  the  ground,  and  the  chapel 
sprung  up  like  a  mushroom.  I  thought,  after  sueh  large  proofs 
of  my  prayers  being  attended  to,  1  would  ask  a  few  more  favours. 
My  surtout  coat  was  got  very  thin  and  bad,  and  the  weather  at 
that  time  was  very  cold,  and  I  felt  it  as  I  was  going  to  preach, 
and  I  prayed  secretly  for  a  coat.  As  soon  as  I  delivered  my 
discourse  1  desired  a  young  man  to  fetch  my  old  great  coat,  in 
order  to  put  it  on  before  I  went  out  of  the  warm  meeting-house ; 
when  he  came  back,  lo !  he  brought  me  a  new  one.  I  told  him 
it  was  not  mine ;  he  said  it  was ;  so  I  put  it  on,  and  it  fitted  very 
well.  In  one  of  the  pockets  there  was  a /letter  which  informed 
me  my  blessed  Lord  and  Master  had  sent  it  .to  me  to  wrap  my 
worthless  carcass  in  during  the  very  severe  winter.  I  had 
thought,  by  my  continual  coming  and  begging  so  many  things 
of  my  indulgent  Master,  I  should  weary  him.  My  mock- 
modesty  had  nearly  deprived  me  of  this  new  great  coat. 

"At  this  time,"  continues  the  Eeverend  Coalheaver,  "I 
preached  at  llichmond,  Ditton,  Cobham,  Farnham,  ^.c.  This  I 
•found  too  much  for  my  strength.     I  found  I  had  great  need  of 


26  THE  LIFE  AND  COEKESPONDENCE  OF 

a  horse,  so  I  went  to  prayer  and  asked  for  more  strength,  less 
work,  or  a  horse.  I  used  my  prayers  as  gunners  do  swivels, 
turning  them  every  way  as  the  cases  required.  I  then  hired  a 
horse  to  take  me  to  town,  and  rode  into  the  livery-stables  near 
Margaret- street  Chapel ;  but  the  ostler  refused  to  take  him  in, 
saying  he  had  no  room.  I  asked  for  his  master,  and  he  told  me 
the  same  story.  I  was  then  going  out  of  the  yard,  when  he 
asked  me  if  I  was  the  person  that  preached  at  St.  Margaret- 
street  Chapel  ?  I  told  him  I  was ;  he  burst  into  tears.  He 
said  he  would  turn  one  of  his  own  horses  out  and  take  mine  in. 
In  a  day  or  two  he  said  some  of  my  friends  had  been  gathering 
money  to  buv  me  a  horse,  and  that  he  gave  something  towards 
him.  Soon  after  I  got  the  horse,  and  one  person  gave  me  a 
guinea  to  buy  me  a  bridle,  another  gave  me  two  whips,  another 
trusted  me  for  a  saddle;  and  here  was  a  full  answer  to  my 
prayer." 

I  wonder  how  many  answers  a  man  might  receive  in  these 
days  if  he  prayed  that  a  saddler  might  be  found  to  trust  him 
under  similar  circumstances.  But  he  had  not  half  done  with 
the  credulous  customers  that  were  saddled — ay,  and  bridled  too 
— by  him.  The  Coalheaver,  "  set  on  horseback,"  still  longed 
for  something  more ;  he  would  not  let  his  dear  master  have  an 
hour's  rest ;  he  bestrode  his  Bucephalus  and  rode  home. 

"  I  told  God,"  he  continues,  "  as  I  went  along,  I  had  more 
work  for  my  faith  now  than  heretofore,  for  the  horse  would  take 
half  as  much  to  keep  him  as  my  whole  family ;  but  I  lived  and 
cleared  my  way  just  as  I  did  before,  for  I  could  not  then  get 
anything  either  to  eat  or  drink,  wear  or  use,  without  begging 
it  of  God  " — i.e.,  he  was  too  lazy  to  carry  out  coals,  too  stupid 
to  make  a  shoe,  found  nothing  was  so  easy  as  to  preach  to 
uneducated  fanatics,  and  was  not  above  spunging  upon  them 
all. 

Often  have  I  heard  him  repeat  the  passage  that  follows,  which 
is  nearly  verbatim  in  his  book,  as  far  as  my  memory  serves  me — 
"Having  now  had  my  horse  several  weeks,  and  going  a  great 
way  regular  every  Sunday,  as  might  naturally  be  inferred,  my 
breeches  began  to  wear  out.  I  often  made  very  free  with  my 
master  in  my  prayers,  but  he  still  kept  me  so  uncommon  poor 
that  I  could  not  get  them  at  any  rate.  At  last  I  was  determined 
to  go  to  one  of  my  flock  at  Kingston  that  was  in  the  breeches 
line,  and  to  get  him  to  trust  me  until  my  master  sent  me  money 
to  pay  him."     Is  not  this  very  like  swindling  ? 

"  I  was  going  to  London  that  day,  and  called  on  Mr.  Croucher,- 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  27 

a  shoemaker  (to  diddle  liim  out  of  a  pair  of  shoes).  He  told 
me  a  parcel  was  left  there  for  me ;  I  opened  it,  and,  behold, 
there  was  a  pair  of  leather  breeches  !" 

Now,  what  can  be  said  or  thought  of  the  infatuated  wretches 
who  would  visit  this  wretched  buffoon  to  hear  "  the  word,"  as 
they  called  it?  Did  any  one  of  the  "devil's  children"  ever 
utter  anything  in  a  theatre  so  calculated  to  bring  the  very  name 
of  religion  into  contempt  as  this  ?  In  his  book  he  published  the 
letter  which  accompanied  the  present : — 

"  Sir, — I  have  sent  you  a  pair  of  breeches,  and  hope  they  will  fit. 
I  beg  your  acceptance  of  them  ;  and  if  they  want  any  alteration,  leave 
in  a  note  what  the  alteration  is,  and  I  will  call  in  a  few  days  and  alter 
them.  J.  S." 

Now  hear  S.  S.  reply  to  J.  S-.: — 

"  Ste, — I  received  your  present,  and  thank  you  for  it.  I  was  going 
to  order  a  pair  of  leather  breeches,  because  I  did  not  know  till  now  that 
my  master  had  ordered  them  of  you.  They  fit  very  well;  which  con- 
vinces me  that  the  same  God  who  moved  thy  heart  to  give  guided  thy 
hand  to  cut,  because  he  perfect!}'  knew  my  size,  having  clothed  me  in  a 
miraculous  manner  for  near  five  years." 

Often  as  I  have  heard  this,  I  would  not  have  ventured  to  offer 
it  to  my  readers  if  he  had  not  borne  me  out  by  his  own  printed 
testimony.  If  this  be  not  the  double-distilled  essence  of  blas- 
phemy, I  know  not  what  is. 

If  I  were  writing  only  the  history  of  Methodist  preachers,  I 
could  relate  innumerable  anecdotes  of  the  absurdities,  blunders, 
and  practical  jokes,  &c.,  of  these  people,  who  have  left  the  same 
impression  upon  my  mind  that  a  set  of  strolling  actors  would 
have  left  upon  one  of  them,  and  about  as  much  respect  for  their 
calling  as  such  pretenders  to  religion  would  feel  for  the  clowns 
and  pantaloons  of  a  comic  pantomime.  I  have  seen  even  Row- 
land Hill*  (I  believe  a  sincere  and  excellent  man),  who  had  the 
advantage  of  those  I  have  spoken  of  in  being  a  gentleman,  guilty 

*  Rowland  Hill,  dissenting  minister,  as  popular  in  his  day  as  Mr.  Spurgeoa 
is  at  present,  but  possessing  infinitely  more  education,  natural  talent,  wit, 
humour,  sarcasm,  and  withal  earnestness,  than  his  successor  has  the  credit 
for,  was  born  in  1744.  He  was  the  most  zealous  disciple  of  the  celebrated 
George  Whitfield,  and  was  minister  of  Surrey  Chapel  for  upwards  of  fifty 
years.  He  fitted  his  discourse  to  his  congregation,  illustrating  the  most  solemn 
truths  with  the  most  ludicrous  and  commonplace  imagery,  yet  so  forcible  in 
bis  reasoning  and  so  pure  in  his  life,  that  he  was  worshipped  by  his  congregation 
and  admired  and  reverenced  by  all  who  heard  him. 


28  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

of  such  violence  in  the  pulpit,  that  the  impression  of  those  who 
were  not  accustomed  to  his  oddities  was  that  he  was  a  maniac. 
Frequently  I  have  seen  him  wield  and  poise  in  the  air,  and  shake 
the  Bible  at  his  congregation,  till  he  has  dropped  it  amongst  his 
auditory.  (It  was  a  common  thing  to  see  him  stoop  to  pick  it 
up  within  the  pulpit.)  I  have  seen  him,  while  dealing  out  brim- 
stone by  the  bushel  and  torments  by  the  hundred-weight,  knock 
the  candles. on  either  side  out  of  their  sockets.  The  pulpit 
cushion  was  another  plaything :  I  have  often  expected  he  would 
throw  it  at  me,  and  I  perfectly  recollect  making  the  preparatory 
action  of  a  cricketer  as  I  exchanged  looks  with  some  of  my  com- 
panions, youngsters  like  myself,  to  catch  it  when  he  should  hurl 
it  from  him  in  his  enthusiasm.  He  who  had  the  advantages  of 
birth  and  association,  and  a  college  education,  should  have  proudly 
maintained  his  station  in  contradistinction  to  the  vulgar  herd  of 
"  the  elect,"  instead. of  being  a  kind  of  leader  to  them  ;  but  he 
was  as  remarkable  as  the  most  unwashed  and  uneducated  of  the 
set  for  the  preaohing-made-easy  system — the  reducing  the  sublime 
to  the  level  of  such  understandings  as  theirs  to  whom  they  prin- 
cipally addressed  ihemselves — the  notion  of  making  Divine  truths 
clear  to  "the  meanest  capacity"  by  vulgar  illustration.  I  shall 
mention  only  three  or  four  of  his  most  extraordinary  ..attempts  at 
effect  in  this  way. 

"  The  love  of  our  Lord  is  like  a  good  large  round  of  beef,  my 
brethren — you  may  cut  and  come  again." 

Again — "  You  all  know  how  difficult  it  is  to  catch  a  pig  by  the 
tail ;  you  will  find  it  eg^ually  so  to  catch  the  love  of  our  Lord 
after  backslidings." 

On  an  occasion  of  his  preaching  a  charity  sermon,  he  said,  "  I 
once  got  1000^.  by  a  charity  sermon.  I  hope  I  shall  get  as  much 
to-day.  But  observe,  if  any  of  you  are  in  debt,  don't  put  any 
money  in  the  plate.  Eecollect — take  time — deliberate.  If  any 
of  you  owe  money,  be  just  before  you  are. generous.  Stop  though. 
On  second  thoughts,  those  who  don't  give  will  be  pointed  at. 
'  Oh,  he  or  she's  in  debt,'  "  &c;* 

*  Since  I  wrote  down  these,  anecdote?,  I  made  the  following  extract  from  a 
newspaper,  Dec.  30th,  1831. 

"Popular  Preaching. 

"  As  the  Rev.  Rowland  Hill  was  holding  forth  at  the  Tabernacle,  Tottenham - 
Court-road,  a  lady  remarked  the  uncommon  attention  paid  to  him  by  a  very 
old  person  near  her.  When  the  discourse  ended,  the  attentive  hearer  exclaimed, 
*  Grod  bless  his  heart,  he  is  as  funny  as  ever  !'  " 


CHAELES  MATHEWS.  29 

I  remember  Eowland  Hill  from  my  infancy.  He  was  an  odd, 
flighty,  absent  person.  So  inattentive  was  he  to  nicety  in 
dress,  that  I  have  seen  him  enter  my  father's  house  with  one 
red  slipper  and  one  shoe ;  the  knees  of  his  breeches  untied, 
and  the  strings  dangling  down  his  legs.  In  this  state  he  had 
walked  from  Blackfriars-road,  unconscious  of  his  eccentric  ap- 
pearance. 


80  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


CHAPTEE  IV. 

French  school — Private  theatricals — Master  Elliston — First  visit  to  a  theatre, 
and  its  effect — Literary  attempt — Mr.  John  Litchfield — Major  Topham — 
William  Mathews — "The  Thespian  Magazine" — Editorship — Death  of 
Edwin  the  comedian — Correspondence  with  Mr.  Thomas  Harris,  the  pro- 
prietor of  Covent  Garden  Theatre — Apprenticeship  to  his  father — Macklin 
— First  appearance  on  a  public  stage  with  Mr.  John  Litchfield — Richmond 
at  Richmond — The  Duke  of  Clarence  and  Mrs.  Jordan — Second  appearance 
in  public — Canterbury — Last  appearance  in  the  character  of  a  bookseller — 
Introduction  to  the  agent  of  the  Dublin  Theatre — Engagement,  and  depar- 
ture from  home. 

I  NOW  approach  that  period  of  my  boyish  days  which  is  more 
intimately  connected  with  my  after-hfe.  I  have  before  hinted 
that  my  peregrinations  from  the  Strand  to  Merchant  Tailors' 
School  four  times  during  the  day  ended  in  attending  a  French 
school  in  the  evening.  This  was  kept  by  a  Madame  Cotterel, 
who  had  fled  from  the  horrors  of  the  French  Revolution,  and 
commenced  teacher  of  her  own  language  in  England.  Her 
scholars  were  few  and  select.  She  resided  in  the  tirst-floor  of  a 
pastrycook's  house  near  Bedford-street,  Strand.  The  father  of 
the  celebrated  Flaxman,  the  sculptor,  resided  next  door,  and 
Miss  F.  was  one  of  my  fellow  pupils.  In  this  evening  academy 
the  foundation-stone  of  that  fabric  was  laid  which,  whether  or  not 
raised  for  the  advantage  of  myself  and  the  public,  I  must  leave  to 
posterity  to  determine.  Here,  most  imquestionably,  ambition  for 
histrionic  honours  first  fired  my  soul.  I  had  never  seen  a  play, 
and  probably  should  not  have  rebelled  against  my  father's 
authority  and  strict  commands  that  I  should  not  visit  a  theatre, 
but  for  this  accidental  association.  I  believe  all  the  pupils  of 
this  lad}'^  had  been  indulged  in  this  amusement  but  myself  Some 
three  or  four  were  panting  for  private  theatricals,  and  amongst 
them,  unluckily  for  my  father's  peace — hear  it,  theatrical  readers, 
with  some  interest — Master  Elhston !  He  was  already  a  spouter, 
and  I  must  own  much  more  time  was  spent  in  English  recitations 
from  dramatic  authors  than  in  French  exercises.  I  was  fasci- 
nated by  the  specimens  I  heard,  by  imitation,  of  some  of  the  great 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  31 

actors,  and  scarcely  knowing  why,  was  insensibly  led  on  to  emu- 
late these  would-be  heroes  at  the  French  school.  This  gradually 
ripened  into  an  overpowering,  all-absorbing  passion.  Elliston, 
afterwards  so  justly  celebrated,  was  our  prime  leader;  he  was 
only  four  years  older  than  myself,  yet  the  distinction  between 
man  and  boy  almost  existed  between  us,  I  being  fourteen,  and 
he  eighteen. 

Having  with  some  difficulty  obtained  our  mistress's  permission, 
the  play  of  "  The  Distressed  Mother"  was  at  length  arranged  and 
got  up,  and  I  made  my  "  first  appearance  on  any  stage"  at  the 
theatre  over  the  pastrycook's  shop,  first-floor  front,  in  the  cha- 
racter of  Fhoenix.  Master  Elliston  enacted  Pyrrhus^  and  Orestes 
was  really  well  performed  by  a  very  interesting  youth  of  the 
name  of  Leftley,  a  poetical  genius  who  distinguished  himself  in 
many  of  the  periodical  publications  of  the  day.  Miss  Osborne 
and  Miss  Flaxman  were  among  the  performers.  But  Elliston 
was  our  evening  star,  and  distanced  us  all.  It  was  a  fine  animated 
performance,  and  created  as  much  wonder  and  elicited  as  much 
applause  as  the  acting  of  Master  Betty  in  later  days.  He  was 
pronounced  at  once  a  theatrical  genius  of  the  first  order,  and  his 
future  pursuits  in  life  fixed  in  the  minds  of  all  his  auditors,  if  not 
in. his  own. 

All  I  can  recollect  of  my  tragic  attempt  is,  that  it  had  an 
effect — a  powerful  effect.  The  audience  laughed  as  much  at  me 
as  I  am  proud  to  say  they  have  since  laughed  with  me.  But  I 
had  not  the  advantage  of  my  competitors ;  they  had  all  seen 
many  plays — I  not  one.  Each  had  probably  selected  some 
favourite  actor  as  a  model,  while  the  only  specimens  of  elocution 
I  had  to  form  my  notions  upon  were,  with  a  few  exceptions,  the 
drawling,  snuffling  heroes  of  the  conventicles.  From  this  time 
I  am  free  to  confess  that  our  studies  were  in  some  degree 
neglected,  the  English  drama  proving  more  attractive  than 
French  exercises. 

At  the  age  of  fourteen  I  commenced  author — at  least  as  much 
so  as  many  of  our  modern  dramatists — for  I  translated  the 
Princess  of  Cleves,  which  was  published  in  monthly  contribu- 
tions in  the  Ladies'  Magazine. 

The  following  year  we  got  up  "  The  Orphan "  (I  the 
chaplain)  ;  Elliston  was  again  our  Magnus  Apollo.  His  voice 
had  had  twelve  months'  more  mellowing,  and  he  gave  a  specimen 
of  his  vocal  powers  on  this  occasion  by  singing,  between  the 
play  and  farce,  "  To  Anacreon  in  Heaven "  at  a  table,  with 
punch-bowl  and  glasses,  while  the  scholars  sat  round  as  chorus. 


32  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

A  gayer  specimen  of  juvenile  jollity  I  have  never  witnesseci 
His  joyous  exuberance  of  mirthful  enjoyment  was  worth) 
Bacchus  himself :  he  looked  the  rosy  god  when  he  chuckled  ovei 

"  The  myrtle  of  Venus  with  Bacchus' s  vine." 

His  laughter-loving  eye  and  round  dimpled  face  were  never" 
displayed  to  more  advantage  even  in  after-days  when  crowded 
audiences  gave  their  testimony  to  his  mirth-inspiring  comic 
powers ;  and  to  the  praise  and  the  good  taste  of  our  critics  at 
the  pastrycook's,  be  it  spoken,  they  predicted  his  future  great- 
ness. Having  a  bad  part  in  the  tragedy,  I  stipulated  for  a 
character  in  the  afterpiece.  A  one-act  farce,  called  "  A  Quarter 
of  an  Hour  before  Dinner  "  (written  by  Mr.  Rose,  second  master 
of  Merchant  Tailors'  School,  and  often  acted  at  the  Haymarket), 
was  selected,  in  which  I  enacted  Mr.  Lovel,  and  I  have  every 
reason  to  beheve  without  the  slightest  approbation.  I  cannot 
now  remember  whether  by  slow  degrees  I  had  gained  my 
father's  consent  to  this,  or  whether  it  was  kept  a  secret,  but 
certainly  neither  he  nor  any  of  my  family  were  present.  Again 
he  was  unfortunate ;  for  how  could  he,  good  easy  man !  have 
anticipated  that  the  reward  for  his  parental  anxiety  respecting 
my  education  should  be  to  find  himself  thwarted  in  his  best 
hopes,  by  my  being  initiated  into  the  mysteries  of  Melpomene 
at  a  French  Academy  ? 

I  have  already  stated  that  a  public  school  was  not  calculated 
for  a  youth  destined  to  stand  behind  a  counter,  and  deal  out 
"  More  Last  Words  of  Mr.  Baxter,"  "  High-heeled  Shoes  for 
Limping  Christians,"  and  "  Hooks  and  Eyes  for  Believers' 
Breeches  ;"  for  my  associations  there  only  gave  me  a  distaste 
for  such  occupations,  while  at  the  tart  and  tragedy  manufactory 
I  imbibed  an  actual  taste  for  other  pursuits,  and,  instead  of 
reading  "Huntington's  Sinner  Saved"  (S.S.),  "Brother  Hill's 
Experience  of  his  Sainted  Sarah,"  or  "The  Last  Moments  of  a 
Pawnbroker's  Laundry  Maid,"  or  other  such  tracts  from  my 
father's  shelves,  I  selected  the  beauties  of  the  living  dramatists 
which  nestled  unheeded  among  the  great  mass  of  sermons  and 
theological  works.  They  heated  my  imagination,  and,  together 
with  the  lessons  in  the  French  nursery,  gave  me  the  most 
ardent  desire  to  witness  a  play.  On  every  occasion  of  my 
father's  absence,  instead  of  standing  behind  the  counter  I 
mounted  upon  it,  and  with  a  round  ruler  for  a  tmncheon,  red 
ink  for  blood,  the  kitchen  poker  for  a  sword,  and  a  towering 
goose-quill  fixed  on  one  side  of  my  hat,  turned  up  for  the  purpose, 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  S3 

the  skirt  of  my  coat  thrown  gracefully  over  my  left  shoulder  for 
a  mantle,  and  a  red  tape  garter  encircling  my  knee,  did  I  exhibit 
myself,  to  the  great  edification  of  his  apprentices. 

At  length,  on  a  certain,  and  oh,  i'atal  night !  a  dark  and 
gloomy  night,  suited  to  the  perpetration  of  such  an  act  of  dis- 
obedience, with  stealthy  steps  I  trod  my  way.  I  dared  not 
look  right  or  left,  so  conscious  was  I  of  the  "  deep  damnation  of 
the  deed ;"  but  my  soul  was  in  arms,  my  time  was  my  own,  my 
will  w^as  free  (my  father  had  departed  for  Whetstone,  his 
constant  custom  on  a  Saturday  evening,  to  indulge  his  own 
pursuit),  and  I  issued  forth  with  my  friend  Litchfield,  of  the 
Council-ofhce,  from  the  bookseller's  shop,  to  make  my  first  entree 
at  a  public  theatre  :  this  was  in  the  autumn  of  1790.  Oh  the 
delights  of  that  night !  that  two  shillings'  worth  of  disobedience ! 
My  compimion  and  I  have  frequently  laughed  over  the  recollec- 
tion of  my  frantic  behaviour.  He  could  not  pacify  me.  He 
had  long  been  initiated  into  the  mysteries  of  the  scenic  art; 
but  here  I  was,  at  fourteen,  "  at  my  first  play,"  which  Charles 
Lamb  has  so  beautifully  described.  The  very  curtain  filled  me 
with  anticipations  of  delight ; — the  scenery,  the  dresses,  the 
feathers,  the  russet  boots,  the  very  smell  of  the  theatre, 
that  mixture  of  orange  peel  and  oil,  the  applause  in  which 
1  joined  so  heartily  as  to  bring  all  eyes  and  many  remarks 
upon  me,  to  the  great  scandal  of  my  cicerone,  filled  my 
senses  with  delight.  From  that  night  my  mind  was  in  a  state 
of  splendid  irritation ;  I  could  scarcely  walk  the  streets  without 
offering  "  my  kingdom  for  a  horse,"  to  every  pedestrian  I  met. 
At  night  I  could  not  rest,  Macbeth  did  "  murder  sleep  ;"  and  I 
recited  Lear  up  three  pair  of  stairs  to  a  four-legged  bedstead. 

My  thirst  for  dramatic  fame  was  now  of  course  increased  ten- 
fold. My  next  appearance  was  in  a  private  theatre,  as  we  termed 
it,  over  a  stable  in  an  elegant  part  of  the  west-end  of  the  town, 
called  Short's-gardens,  I)rury-lane.  I  hope  it  was  rather 
more  respectable  as  to  its  inmates  then  than  now.  Here  I 
joined  a  society  of  spouters,  and,  having  stipulated  for  the  best 
parts,  made  my  first  attempt  in  comedy.  Though  Master 
EUiston  monopolized  all  the  attention  and  applause  in  tragedy, 
I  thought  that  in  low  comedy  I  could  beat  him.  I  accordingly 
determined  to  astonish  my  friends  by  appearing  in  Jacob 
Gawkey,  in  "  The  Chapter  of  Accidents,"  and  Le?iitive  in  "  The 
Prize."  This  must  have  been  during  the  first  season  of  that 
farce  ;  and  thinking  that  neither  the  audience  nor  myself  could 
have  too  much  of  a  good  thing,  1  favoured  them  with  about  ^ 


61  THE  LIFE  AND  COREESPONDENCE  OF 

Idozen  imitations  of  the  favourite  actors  of  the  day.  Suett  and 
Munden  were  pronounced  to  be  near  perfection.  I  cannot  amuse 
my  readers,  as  I  hope  I  did  my  audience,  except  in  relating  one 
most  absurd  though  appalling  fact.  In  the  commencement  of 
the  second  act  there  are  two  cases  discovered,  supposed  to 
contain  Chinese  bonzes  sent  as  presents  to  Mr.  Caddy.  The 
first  is  opened  and  discovers  the  bonze  to  the  delighted  eye  of 
the  virtuoso.  He  then  proceeds  to  No.  2,  when  he  starts  back 
With  surprise  at  discovering  Dr.  Lenitive  in  a  new  dress,  the 
caricature  of  the  fashion  of  the  day,  who  darts  forward  from  the 
cabinet  with  his  lottery-ticket  in  his  hand,  by  which  he  has 
gained,  as  he  supposes,  10,000/.  During  our  rehearsals  I  was 
much  distressed  at  the  difficulties  that  presented  themselves  in 
the  way  of  our  obtaining  these  most  important  and  indispensable 
adjuncts.  The  expense  of  making  them  was  too  serious  to 
encounter ;  and  as  I  was  the  person  most  interested,  and  most 
likely  to  suffiir  from  their  absence,  I  gave  a  sort  of  vague  order  to 
^'  knock  up  something  "  for  the  occasion.  This  was  not  attended 
to,  but  I  was  assured  that  something  would  be  prepared  and 
ready,  when  lo !  to  my  horror  and  amazement,  when  1  came  out 
dressed  in  all  my  best,  I  discovered  that  the  cabinet  from 
whence  I  was  to  issue  forth  was  a  sJiell  from  a  workhouse. 

At  this  epoch  my  pursuits  took  a  literary  as  well  as  a  dra- 
matic turn,  and  my  dehght  when  "  The  Ladies'  Magazine"  first 
exhibited  in  print  "  The  Princess  of  Cleves,  by  C.  M.,"  was 
boundless.  I  thought  the  eyes  of  all  Europe  were  upon  me,  and 
that  the  ladies  who  took  in  the  work  would  unite  in  calling  on 
the  Editor  to  insist  on  the  author  declaring  himself  I  erected 
my  crest  and  craned  my  neck,  as  many  a  modern  dramatist  has 
done  when  taking  to  himself  the  compliments  upon  his  new 
play,  properly  due  to  the  Messrs.  Scribe  and  Co.  My  friend 
Litchfield,  afterwards  husband  of  the  actress  of  that  name,  who 
first  displayed  to  me  the  splendours  of  Melpomene,  was  shortly 
after  that  period  connected  with  the  press.  My  brother  also 
added  to  the  income  my  father  allowed  him  by  contributions. 
"The  Oracle"  was  a  new  paper,  and  Topham,  Parson  Este, 
Hewerdine,  and  a  little  clique  of  the  elect,  started  a  paper  called 
*'The  World."  Litchfield  wrote  the  dramatic  articles  occasion- 
ally for  both,  under  the  signature  of  "  Pollio,"  and  I  believe 
these  were  allowed  to  be  the  best  criticisms  of  the  day.  My 
brother  was  for  a  time  parliamentary  reporter  to  these  and 
others ;  I  therefore  was  insensibly  enticed  into  this  knot  of 
■literati,  and   initiated   into  the  mysterious   arcana   of  diurnal 


CHARLES   MATHEWS.  35 

despotism.  Captain,  afterwards  Major  Topliam,  was  a  most 
prominent  character  on  the  canvas.  I  remember  his  appearance 
well — a  scarlet  coat,  a  cocked  hat,  a  large  door-knocker  of  a  tail 
appended  to  a  carefully-powdered  head,  that  seemed  to  invite 
you  to  give  a  rat-tat  on  his  scarlet  and  white  shoulders,  and 
inquire  if  the  editor  of  "  The  World"  was  within ;  his  knuckles 
crammed  into  his  pockets,  out  of  one  of  which  peeped  a  short 
but  very  thick  stick,  enough  to  show  that  he  was  prepared  for 
an  attack.  Lewis  dressed  at  him  in  Reynolds'  comedy  of 
"  Notoriety,"  and  had  two  lines  in  his  epilogue,  which  were 
evidently  personal,  and  were  always  vociferously  applauded : — 

'*  Hey,  Tom,  how  do  ?     OL  !  is  that  you,  Dick  Docket  ? 
You've  stole  my  stick  !     Oh,  no  !  it's  in  my  pocket !" 

Boaden,  the  author  of  the  Life  of  Kemble,  Mrs.  Siddons, 
Mrs.  Inchbald,  &c.,  was  the  editor  of  "  The  Oracle,"  and  a  cele- 
brated dramatic  critic.  He  was  enthusiastically  devoted  to  the 
Kemble  family,  and  on  terms  of  intimacy  with  "Glorious  John." 
To  these  men  I  looked  up  as  arbiters  of  the  fate  and  fame  of 
many  a  Thespian  hero.  In  all  the  freshness  of  youth,  when 
impulses  burst  forth  without  disguise,  it  was  natural  that,  on 
associating  with  these  men,  I  should  mistake  inclination  for 
abihty — endeavour  to  emulate  their  example  and  become  one 
of  them. 

"  The  Thespian  Magazine"  (entirely  devoted  to  the  drama — I 
need  give  no  other  reason  for  its  decline  and  fall)  was  first  edited 
by  several  of  my  friends,  and  I  commenced  dabbler,  and  after- 
wards editor ;  but  the  pay  was  so  contemptibly  small  (a  guinea 
per  month),  that  it  soon  fell  into  other  hands.  During  my 
editorship  appeared  my  first  attempt  at  criticism.  I  was  block- 
head enough,  after  having  seen  only  about  a  dozen  plays,  to 
imagine  myself  qualified  to  write  upon  the  subject,  and  censure 
those  who  had  devoted  their  minds  and  lives  to  the  study  of 
their  art.  I  was  willing,  though  not  able  to  be,  as  Coleridge 
forcibly  styles  such  persons,  of  "  the  animalculae  that  feed  upon 
the  bodies  of  genius." 

In  the  year  1790  the  great  comedian  Edwin  died,  and  had  I 
been  a  bad  boy  and  stolen  to  the  theatre  during  that  summer 
when  he  was  acting  at  the  Haymarket,  I  might  have  gained 
many  a  hint  that  would  have  turned  to  my  advantage  in  after 
times ;  but  he  died  in  August,  and  my  first  play  was  in  Sep- 
tember, so  that  I  lost  the  opportunity  of  witnessing  the  extra- 
ordinary comic  efforts  of  that  great  actor,  and  have  ever  since 

d2 


36  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

lamented  that  I  should  have  been  so  tardy  in  my  disobedience^ 
To  give  an  idea,  however,  of  my  peculiar  modesty  at  this  period, 
the  news  of  poor  Edwin's  demise  was  no  sooner  made  known 
than  I  made  up  my  mind,  inexperienced  and  ignorant  as  I  was, 
to  succeed  him.  I  lost  no  time  in  writing  to  Mr.  Harris,  the 
proprietor  of  Covent  Garden  Theatre,  tendering  my  services  for 
his  situation.  I  luckily  preserved  a  copy  of  my  absurd  letter, 
and  have  also  carefully  cherished  Mr.  Harris's  Yeply  in  evidence 
of  my  own  vanity  and  folly: — 

"  Sir, — The  lamented  death  of  Mr.  Edwin  making  an  opening  in 
your  establishment,  inspires  me  to  offer  myself  as  a  candidate  to  supply 
the  vacancy.  I  have  never  performed  in  any  public  theatrical  repre- 
sentation yet,  having  been  much  engaged  in  business,  but  I  trust  this 
will  not  operate  against  me.  I  already  am  perfect  in  Lingo  and 
JBowhitt,  and  know  more  than  half  of  Old  I)oiley.  Salarj'  is  no 
object,  as  I  onl}^  wish  to  bring  my  powers  into  a  proper  sphere  of  action. 
I  do  not  wish  to  blaze  out  awhile  and  then  evaporate.  Being  at  present 
bound  to  my  father  and  under  indentures,*  of  course  his  consent  will 
be  necessary  ;  but  this  is  the  only  impediment  I  am  aware  of.  Your 
immediate  answer,  if  convenient,  will  be  of  great  consequence  to. 

Sir,  3'our  obedient  servant,  C.  M." 

Mr.  Harris's  reply  was  simply  as  follows : — 

"  Sir, — The  line  of  acting  which  you  propose  is  at  this  time  so  very 
well  sustained  in  Covent  Garden  Theatre,  that  it  will  not  be  in  my 
power  to  give  you  any  eligible  situation  therein. 

I  am.  Sir,  your  obedient  servant,  T.  HiKEis." 

In  justification  of  this  gentleman's  rejection  of  my  valuable 
services,  and  in  confirmation  of  my  vanity,  I  have  only  to  add, 
that  those  excellent  actors,  Messrs.  Munden  and  Fawcett,  were 
deservedly  established  favourites  in  the  line  to  which  I  aspired. 

Had  I  never  turned  manager  myself,  I  should  have  been 
under  the  mortifying  impression  of  being  the  only  silly  boy  that 
could  be  guilty  of  such  folly ;  but  I  have  since  collected  stores 
of  such  specimens  of  harmless  stupidity,  many  of  them  addressed 
to  myself.  However,  I  was  not  to  be  stilled  in  m}^  theatrical 
cradle ;  I  bought  a  pot  of  rouge  and  kept  it  in  my  drawer  of, 
best  clothes,  though  I  had  no  chance  of  using  it,  and  burnt  all 
my  father's  corks,  and  put  them  by  against  the  time  I  should 
want  eyebrows.  Low  comedy  flamed  high  within  me,  Lingo 
danced  in  my  imagination,  and   Old  Doiley  raged  in  my  soul. 

*  Every  frequenter  of  the  "  At  Homes"  will  recollect  his  fine  personification 
of  the  celebrated  John  Wilkes,  before  whom  he  appeared  with  his  father  on  the 
occasion  of  his  apprenticeship. 


CHAKLES  MATHEWS.  S7 

The  former  I  used  to  go  through,  with  all  the  songs,  to  my 
father's  apprentices  and  servants,  with  the  most  complete  and 
triumphant  success,  I  procured  a  wig  resembhng  Edwin's,  as  I 
guessed  from  portraits  of  him,  and  sung  the  songs  in  imitation 
of  imitations  I  had  heard  of  him. 


Here  a  blank  is  left  in  my  husband's  narrative,  after  a  pencilled 
name,  which  from  memory  I  fill  up.  I  have  heard  him  relate 
the  following  account  so  often  that,  though  I  may  not  be  able 
to  give  it  so  humorously  as  he  would  have  done,  I  can  yet  tell 
it  truly ; — 

At  this  time  the  aspirant  sought  an  interview  with  the  cele- 
brated Charles  Macklin,*  who  had  then  attained  a  hundred 
years  and  upwards.  He  had  been  recommended  to  recite  to  him 
for  the  purpose  of  gaining  the  veteran's  opinion  and  instruc- 
tions ;  and,  going  by  appointment  to  the  residence  of  the  aged 
man  in  Tavistock-row,  he  found  him  ready  to  receive  him. 
When  the  door  was  opened,  and  the  youth  announced,  there  was 
Macklin  in  his  arm-chair,  from  which  he  did  not  attempt  to  rise, 
nor,  indeed,  take  any  notice  of  the  entrance  of  the  stranger,  but 
remained  with  an  arm  on  either  elbow  of  the  chair  he  sat  in, 
looking  sour  and  severe  at  his  expected  pupil,  who,  hesitating  on 
the  threshold,  paused  timidly,  nay  fearfully,  which  occasioned 
the  centenary  to  call  out,  in  any  but  inviting  tones,  "Come 
nearer  1  What  do  you  stand  tliere  for  P  You  can't  act  in  the 
gap  of  the  door !"  The  young  man  approached.  "  Well,"  added 
Macklin,  in  a  voice  ill  calculated  to  inspire  confidence,  "  don't 
be  afraid  !  Now — let  me  hear  you."  This  crabbed  austerity 
completely  chilled  the  aspirant's  ardour ;  however,  mustering  up 
all  the  confidence  this  harsh  reception  had  left  him,  he  began  to 
declaim  according  to  the  approved  rules  of  "  speech-days.'* 
Macklin,  sitting  like  a  stern  judge  waiting  to  pronounce  sen- 
tence upon  a  criminal,  rather  than  to  laud  a  hero,  soon  inter- 
rupted the  speech  with  a  mock  imitation  of  the  novice's  monoto- 
nous tones,  barking  out,  "  Bow,  wow,  wow,  wow !"  This  was 
enough  to  damp  the  Thespian  flame  which  had  lighted  the  poor 
youth  into  the  presence  of  the  terrible  old  man,  and  he  felt  him* 

*  Charles  Macklin  (real  name  MacLaughlin),  actor  and  dramatist,  born  in 
1690,  first  appeared  in  London  in  1725,  specially  celebrated  for  his  per- 
formance of  the  character  of  Shy  lock.  His  best-known  comedy  is  "The 
Man  of  the  World,"  which  still  keeps  the  stage.  He  died  in  1797,  aged  one 
hundred  and  seven. 


38  THE  LIFE  AND  COEEESPONDENCE   OF 

self  unable  to  make  another  essay,  but  stood,  with  downcast  eyes 
and  swelling  heart,  awaiting  the  verdict  which  he  expected.  At 
last  Macklin,  with  increased  severity  of  manner  and  voice,  asked 
(pokhig  his  head  forward  at  the  same  time,  as  if  to  impress  his 
question  the  more  strongly) — "  Young  man,  are  you  at  all  aware 
what  the  quahfications  of  an  actor  should  he  f "  The  youth 
sighed  out,  "  I  believe  not,  sir." — Macklin.  "No,  I  am  sure  you 
are  not.  I  will  tell  you,  then,  sir  "  (poor  Charles  Mathews  had 
never  in  his  life  before  been  called  "  sir,"  and  it  seemed  to  him 
an  awfully  responsible  word  at  that  moment) — "  I  will  tell  you 
what  he  ought  to  be ;  what  I  was,  and  what  no  man  was  ever 
eminent  without  being.  In  the  first  place,  an  actor  ought  to 
possess  a  fine,  an  expressive  ei/e — '  an  eye  like  Mars,  to  threaten 
and  command.'  "  (His  own  flatly  contradicted  his  assertion.) 
"  Sir,  he  should  have  a  beautiful  countenance."  (Charles  looked 
up  at  his  ;  but  so  many  lines  had  crossed  what  of  beauty  might 
have  once  been  written  there,  that  nothing  of  it  was  legible.) 
"  He  should  be  able  to  assume  a  look  that  might  appal  the 
devil ./"  (Here,  indeed,  he  had  one  requisite  in  full  force.) 
"  He  should  possess  a  fine,  clear,  mellifluous  voice !"  (alas !  his 
own  sounded  like  a  cracked  trumpet) — "  a  graceful  figure,  siV." 
(The  lean  and  shppered  pantaloon  was  an  Apollo  Belvidere  to 
Mackhn.)  "But,  above  all,  young  man" — (and  here  the 
speaker's  tone  deepened  into  something  like  solemnity) — above 
all,  an — actor — should — possess — that — first — great — natural — 
requisite — that — test — of — genius — a  good — good — sir,''  (added 
he,  in  a  loud  and  angry  voice,  as  if  commanding  assistance) — "  I 
wsint  Si  word/ — he  should,  I  say,  possess  a  good — retentive — " 
"  Memory  !"  cried  out  the  young  man.     "  Ay,  sir,  Memory ^ 

Here  the  old  man  seemed  to  dwell  for  a  while  pensively  upon 
the  attribute  just  Ze?2^  to  him;  then  rousing  himself  from  his 
thoughtful  posture,  he  looked  up  in  his  visitor's  face,  as  if  in- 
quiring what  he  did  there  ?  "  Well,  sir  ?—  oh  !  well,  well," — 
(as  if  rising  from  the  abyss  of  forgetfulness) — "  as  I  have  said 
—an  actor's  requisites  are  many.  Amongst  the  rest,  discrimi- 
nation. Sir,  in  the  course  of  my  long  life  I  never  knew  more 
than  three  actors  who  possessed  discrimination.  David  Garrick 
was  one, — J,  Charles  MacMin,  another,  and  the  third  was 
— a — a — a — ."  (Here  his  voice  sank,  as  if  step  by  step,  till  it 
reached  a  landing-place,  where  it  was  stationary  and  mute  for 
some  seconds ;  he  then  added,  in  a  sort  of  mental  soliloquy,  and 
with  a  half  sigh,  "  1  forget  who  was  the  other  !"  Then,  closing 
his  eyes,  he  sank  back  into  his  chair,  as  if  asleep,  and  was  cer- 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  3^ 

tainly  unconscious  of  the  exit  of  the  young  Thespian,  who,  shut- 
ting the  door  quietly  after  him,  flew  down  stairs  like  a  lapwing, 
opened  the  street-door,  and  ran  away  rejoicing  in  his  escape,  as 
if  he  feared  the  sour  old  man,  who  had  curdled  his  blood  with 
his  severity,  would  have  shut  him  up  for  life  in  his  dreary 
presence. 

Mr.  Mathews  had  not,  however,  seen  him  for  the  last  time  ; 
for,  before  he  left  home  for  Dublin,  he  was  seated  next  to 
Macklin  in  the  pit  of  one  of  the  theatres,  when,  totally  un- 
mindful that  he  had  ever  met  the  youth  before,  he  addressed  him 
on  the  occasion  of  an  actress,  of  a  certain  age,  performing  a 
youthful  hoyden,  and  afiecting  the  lightness  and  agility  of  girl- 
hood. Macklin  ought  to  have  known  her — (she  was  either  Miss 
or  Mrs.  Fope ;  both  of  the  old  school) — but  that  he  had  con-f 
fessedly  lost  an  actor's  great  requisite,  memory  ;  and  he  asked 
his  neighbour  the  name  of  the  lady,  who  seemed  to  amuse  him, 
several  times  in  the  course  of  the  performance.  At  last,  on  her 
more  than  ordinary  display  of  agility,  Macklin  turned  round  and 
observed,  in  a  voice  that  seemed  to  issue  from  a  cavern,  "  Sir, 
that  lady  jumps  very  high,  but  she  comes  down  very  heavy. ^^ 


Autohiography  resumed. 

From  this  period  I  remained  at  Merchant  Tailors'  School  ; 
and,  during  vacation  time  and  leisure  hours,  "  served  in  the 
shop,"  as  Brother  Hill  would  have  said.  Dick,  in  Murphy's 
"Apprentice,"  was  a  mere  type  of  me.  He  neglected  only  the 
shop  in  pursuit  of  his  spouting  propensities,  but  I  forgot  counter, 
cloisters,  chapel,  father,  mother,  all ;  and  my  master-passion  led 
me  at  length  to  an  act  of  open  rebellion.  I  began  more  than  to 
suspect  that  the  managers  of  the  theatres  would  not  engage  a 
raw  inexperienced  youth,  merely  to  gratify  his  silly  ambition, 
when,  to  my  great  delight,  I  heard  Trom  Litchfield,  who  was 
quite  as  stage-struck  as  myself,  that  the  manager  of  the  Rich- 
mond Theatre  would  allow  any  young  gentleman  to  perform  who 
would  pay  him  ten  guineas.  What  condescending  liberality  ! 
How  could  he  ask  a  smaller  sum  ?  I  negotiated  with  him ;  and 
had  the  great  good  fortune  to  bring  the  potentate  to  even  more 
moderate  terms,  namely,  that  he  would  allow  two  young  gentle- 
men to  perform  for  fifteen.  This  I  communicated  with  great 
glee  to  my  brother  enthusiast,  who  had  ambition  enough  to  aim 
at  the  highest  honours  of  the  art  at  once.     He  jumped  at  the 


40  THE  LIFE  AND  COERESPONDENCE  OF 

proposal,  and  declared  himself  ready  studied  in  "  Kiehard  the 
Third." 

Now,  it  so  happened  that  I  had  a  passion  for  fencing  which 
nothing  could  overcome  ;  and  this  friend  of  Melpomene  and 
mine  learnt  the  exercise  at  the  same  academy  with  myself. 
Therefore,  for  the  delight  of  exhibiting  my  skill  and  legitimate 
love  of  the  art,  I  kindly  consented  to  take  the  inferior,  insipid 
part  of  MicJimond,  who  does  not  appear  until  the  fifth  act  of  the 
play,  I  stipulating,  however,  for  a  good  part  in  the  after-piece. 
I  cared  for  nothing  except  the  last  scene  of  Richmond,  but  in 
that  I  was  determined  to  have  my  full  swing  of  carte  and 
tierce.  I  had  no  idea  of  paying  seven  guineas  and  a  half  without 
indulging  my  passion.  In  vain  did  the  tyrant  try  to  die,  after  a 
decent  time ;  in  vain  did  he  give  indications  of  exhaustion ;  I 
would  not  allow  him  to  give  in.  I  drove  him  by  main  force 
from  any  position  convenient  for  his  last  dying  speech.  The 
audience  laughed  :  I  heeded  them  not.  They  shouted  :  I  was 
deaf.  Had  they  hooted,  I  should  have  lunged  on  in  uncon- 
sciousness of  their  interruption.  I  was  resolved  to  show  them 
all  my  accomplishments.  Litchfield  frequently  whispered, 
"  Enough  !"  but  I  thought  with  Macbeth — 

"Damn'd  be  he  who  first  cries,  Hold  !  enough  !" 

I  kept  him  at  it ;  and  I  believe  we  fought  almost  literall}'-  "  a 
long  hour  by  Shrewsbury  clock."  To  add  to  the  merriment,  a 
matter-of-fact  fellow  in  the  gallery,  who  in  his  innocence  took 
everything  for  reality,  and  who  was  completely  wrapt  up  and 
lost  by  the  very  cunning  of  the  scene,  at  last  shouted  out, 
"  Damn  him  !  why  does  not  he  shoot  him  ?" 

His  present  Majesty,  William  IV.,  was  in  a  private  box,  with 
Mrs.  Jordan,  on  this  occasion,  having  been  attracted  from  Bushy 
by  the  announcement  of  an  amateur  JRicliard ;  and  I  heard  after- 
wards, that  they  were  both  in  convulsions  of  laughter  at  the 
prolongation  of  the  fight,  which  that  most  fascinating  and  first 
of  all  great  comic  actresses  never  forgot.  Years  after,  when  we 
met  in  Drury-lane  green-room,  I  was  relating,  amongst  other 
theatrical  anecdotes,  the  bumpkin's  call  from  the  gallery  in 
commiseration  of  the  trouble  I  had  in  killing  Richard,  when  she 
shook  me  from  my  feet  almost,  by  starting  up,  clasping  her 
hands,  and  in  her  fervent,  soul-stirring,  warm-hearted  tones,  ex- 
claiming, *' Was  that  you?  I  was  there  T  and  she  screamed 
with  laughter  at  the  recollection  of  my  acting  in  Richnondj  and 


CHAELES  MATHEWS.  4l 

the  length  of  our  combat.  She  thought  it  was  my  friend's 
love  of  acting  that  induced  him  to  spin  it  out.  She  was  loud 
in  praise  of  his  personation  of  Gloster ;  and  a  very  sensible, 
judicious  reading  of  the  character  it  doubtless  was.  The  farce 
was  "  The  Son-in-law."  He  enacted  Arionelli,  the  opera-singer, 
a  singular  effort  after  so  arduous  a  part  as  Gloster;  but  he  ac- 
quitted himself  with  credit.  I  attempted,  after  my  fencing 
mania  had  been  satisfied,  to  dance  myself  into  favour  in  the 
character  of  Bowkitt,  in  that  most  whimsical  afterpiece.  Here 
I  had  an  opportunity  afforded  me  of  exhibiting  a  third  accom- 
plishment. Having  convinced  in  JRichmond  all  the  people  at 
Richmond  that  I  could  fence,  and  in  Bowkitt,  that  I  v^SLsmattre 
de  danse,  I  satisfied  them  that  my  musical  education  had  not 
been  neglected.  The  incipient  Paganini  delighted  the  audience 
by  a  country-dance  tune  on  the  kit.* 


[In  my  husband's  notices  of  his  early  career,  he  has  not  put 
down  his  second  attempt  upon  a  public  stage,  the  particulars  of 
which,  as  I  clearly  recollect  them,  may  properly  be  related  in 
this  place. 

Early  in  1794,  he  and  his  fencing  friend  (Mr.  Litchfield)  pre- 
vailed upon  another  liberal  manager  to  permit  them  to  pay  a 
sum  of  money  to  perform  at  Canterbury,  where  "  Richard  the 
Third"  showed  them  in  their  former  glory,  as  Richard  and 
Bichmond.  The  latter,  from  pure  love  of  fighting  (like  Sir 
Lucius  O' Trigger),  was  once  more  performed  by  the  comedian, 
who  afterwards,  from  equal  love  of  acting,  played  Old  Doiley, 
in  the  farce  of  "  Who's  the  Dupe  ?" 

The  requisite  reserve  with  their  mutual  friends  (for  Mr. 
Litchfield's  family  had  also  a  dash  of  seriousness  in  it)  pre- 

*  The  following  criticism  upon  his  performance  I  have  found  in  a  London, 
paper,  dated  Monday,  Sept.  9th,  1793. 

"  Richmond  Theatre. 

"  '  Richard  the  Third'  was  on  Saturday  evening  represented."  After 
great  eulogy  upon  the  performance  of  Mr.  Litchfield  in  Richard,  the  criticism 
concludes : — 

**  Another  gentleman  also  made  his  first  appearance  in  a  theatre  the  same 
evening,  as  Richmond  and  Bowkitt.  Fear  depressed  his  voice  in  the  former 
part,  and  in  the  latter  he  frequently  spoke  too  indistinctly  to  be  heard  in  the 
distant  seats.  He  manifested  some  naivete,  however,  in  the  Dancing  Master^ 
and  trod  the  boards  with  free  and  easy  steps.  Had  he  combatted  with  a  less 
powerful  rival,  his  attempt  had  been  better  justified ;  as  it  was,  he  did  not 
disgrace  the  company  he  performed  with." 


42  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

eluded  these  young  men  from  completely  indulging  their  vanity ,' 
by  carrying  with  them  any  admiring  witnesses  of  their 
triumphs ;  so  that  they  were  driven  to  the  expedient  of  inviting 
"  mine  Host"  of  the  Fleur  de  lis,  where  they  put  up,  to  go  and 
see  the  performance,  who  graciously  consented  to  accept  a  ticket. 

In  spite  of  remonstrance  from  his  coadjutor,  and  consciousness 
of  former  ridicule,  Bichmond  resolved  again  to  prolong  the  last 
struggles  of  the  tyrant ;  and  when  Bichard  fell,  he  poked  him 
up,  in  the  same  spirit  with  the  boy  in  "  The  Children  in  the 
Wood,"  who  says  to  Walter,  after  he  has  killed  Oliver,  "  Kill 
him  again!  such  a  villain  cannot  be  too  dead!"  and  recom- 
menced the  attack.  Thus  the  combat  lasted  as  long  as  before, 
and  the  two  fencers  gained  much  applause,  without  the  laughter 
with  which  the  Richmond  folks  treated  them.  On  the  contrary, 
the  good  people  of  Canterbury  enjoyed  the  stubbornness  of  the 
contest,  and  their  interest  in  it  was  manifested  by  repeated 
cheers  at  BicJiard^s  skill  in  parrying  such  vigorous  and  perse- 
vering attempts  to  put  him  out  of  the  world.  They  were  in 
fact  delighted  to  see  him  die  hard ;  while  it  was  evident  that, 
had  he  a  thousand  lives,  Bichmond'' s  "  great  revenge  had  stomach 
for  them  all."  In  fine,  the  curtain  dropped  under  shouts  of 
approbation  from  the  discerning  few ;  and  the  two  stars  lighted 
each  other  home,  eager  to  receive  the  private  meed  of  their 
exertions,  from  a  quarter  whence  they  were  especially  due. 

After  a  few  minutes,  "  mine  host"  placed  their  supper  upon 
the  table  with  great  care  and  precision  :  but  not  one  word  did 
he  speak.  The  tired  performers  sat  down,  but  did  not  find  the 
food  they  required.  They  hungered  and  thirsted  for  praise,  for 
which  they  had  a  craving — nay,  an  insatiable  appetite.  The 
best  carver  cut  up  the  chicken  more  as  a  form  than  from  a  desire 
to  eat  of  it ;  and  in  the  course  of  the  operation  put  several 
leading  questions  to  the  silent  landlord.  Still  nothing  satis- 
factory was  elicited.  As  soon,  however,  as  he  and  the  waiter 
had  carried  off  the  remnants  of  the  supper,  which  at  last  the 
guests  had  fallen  upon  in  earnest,  from  the  wish  to  detain  their 
host,  they  invited  him  to  return  for  the  purpose  of  taking  some 
punch  with  them.  In  due  time  he  re-entered  the  room  with  a 
pipe  lighted,  and  sat  himself  down  to  enjoy  the  offered  glass. 
Now  then  was  the  time.  Several  fishing-lines  were  thrown,  but^ 
not  one  compliment  did  they  hook  :  at  last,  the  friends  tacitly 
agreed  to  discard  all  finesse,  and  fairly  drag  out  with  a  net  the 
prey  they  were  so  determined  on  securing.  Bichard  asked 
resolutely,  "  Pray,  Mr. ,  how  did  you  like  the  tragedy  ?" 


CHARLES  MATHEWS,  43 

The  landlord  paused,  with  his  eyes  downcast,  after  the  approved 
manner  of  smokers ;  and,  puff — puff — puff,  was  the  only  reply. 
"  How,"  said  the  comedian,  who  was  impatient,  "  how  did  you 
like  the  farce?"  Puff — puff— puff,  again  (but  not  one  puff  for 
the  actors).  The  question  was  then  put  into  a  more  peremptory 
and  determined  form  :  "  Pray  tell  us  really  what  you  thought  of 
our  acting  ?"  There  was  no  evading  so  direct  an  attack.  Th& 
landlord  looked  perplexed,  his  eyes  still  fixed  upon  the  ground ; 
he  took  at  length  the  tube  slowly  from  his  mouth,  raised  his 
glass,  and  drank  off  the  remnant  of  his  punch  ;  went  to  the  fire- 
place, and  deliberately  knocked  out  the  ashes  from  his  pipe ; 
then  looking  at  the  expectants  for  a  minute,  exclaimed  in  a 
deep  though  hasty  tone  of  voice,  "  D — d  good  fight !"  and  left 
the  room.  Sir  Oracle  having  thus  oped  his  mouth,  not  one 
word  more  could  be  extracted  ;  and  to  this  day  his  opinion  upon 
the  rest  of  the  performance  remains  a  sealed  mystery.] 


Autohiography  resumed. 

My  future  fate  was  now  sealed.  To  buckle  to  business  after 
tasting  of  public  applause  was  not  within  the  boundaries  of 
probable  expectation.  My  first  act  of  open  rebellion  was  accom- 
panied by  an  assault  in  the  eye  of  the  law.  From  the  age  of 
fourteen  until  the  period  at  which  I  now  arrive,  I  occasionally 
served  in  the  shop  during  the  holidays.  A  purse-proud,  vulgar 
customer  of  my  father's,  who  never  would  condescend  to  alight 
from  his  carriage,  exacted  of  me,  "the  shop-boy,"  the  most 
degrading  of  all  duties,  that  of  carrying  articles  to  a  carriage. 
I  had  been  sent  backwards  and  forwards  in  the  rain  too  often 
to  agree  with  my  irritability,  when,  goaded  into  madness  by 
his  haughtiness,  I  felt  at  once  that  I  never  could  suit  myself 
to  such  purposes.  "  This  is  the  second  edition,  I  want  the 
first :"  again  I  returned  to  the  shop.  "  This  is  bound  in  russia,, 
calf-gilt  will  do  for  me.  The  boy's  a  fool !"  said  he,  and  then  I 
threw  the  book  in  his  face.  This  was  about  "  my  last  ap- 
pearance in  that  character." 

Destiny,  a  word  so  often  repeated  by  Napoleon,  now  began  to 
develop  her  plans.  I  could  not  resist  my  fate.  Early  in  the 
year  1794  1  had  made  up  my  mind  to  make  the  stage  my  pro- 
fession, and  began  to  ponder  upon  the  when,  the  where,  and  the 
how,  when  chance  threw  in  my  way  Hitchcock,  who  wrote  the 
"  History  of  the  Irish  Stage."     All  authors  upon  such  subjects 


44  THE  LIFE-  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

were  welcome  to  me ;  and,  after  an  introduction,  I  heard  with 
great  delight  that  he  was  a  sort  of  Serjeant  Kite  to  the  Dublin 
corps  of  Thespians,  and  was  now  in  London  beating  up  for 
recruits  :  in  short,  I  enlisted.  He  did  not  give  me  a  shilling, 
and  I  believe  never  would  if  he  could  with  decency  have 
avoided  it.  I  was  fairly  kidnapped,  after  all,  inasmuch  as  it 
was  quite  clear  that  the  Irish  agent,  as  he  was  termed,  had  no 
power  to  fulfil  the  flattering  promises  he  had  made  to  me.  It  is 
true  I  was  inexperienced,  but  this  he  knew.  I  did  not  deceive 
him,  and  I  never  swerved  from  my  original  inclination.  I 
stipulated  as  far  as  possible  for  what  is  termed  low  comedy ;  for 
I  had  no  pretensions  to  anything  above  that.  Tragedy  I  never 
dreamed  of.  Why  he  engaged  me  at  all  was  a  puzzle  to  me 
when  I  had  leisure  for  repentance  in  Dublin.  My  salary  was  to 
depend  on  my  success.  Could  I  doubt  that  it  would  be  liberal  ? 
It  was  agreed  that  I  should  join  the  corps  in  Dublin  at  the 
latter  end  of  May,  1794. 

I  had  now  a  scene  to  encounter  that  required  some  little 
courage  to  support — namely,  to  break  the  intelligence  to  my 
father  that  I  had  determined  to  quit  the  parental  roof,  and 
follow  the  stage  as  a  profession.  He  was  in  some  measure  pre- 
pared for  the  blow.  I  requested  him  to  cancel  my  indentures 
of  apprenticeship.  "At  all  events,"  said  I,  "1  am  resolved  to 
quit  this  house." 

"You  will  live  to  repent  this  act  of  disobedience,"  said  he. 

"  I  doubt  it,  dear  sir  :  '  my  fate  cries  out.'  " 

"Don't  shock   my  ears,  sir,  with  such  language,"   said  my 
father. 
-   "'Tis  Shakspeare^s,  sir;  I  have  heard  you  quote  him." 

"  I  was  unconscious,  then,"  said  he. 

"No,  sir,"  said  I:  "you  did  him  but  justice  when  you  de- 
fended yourself  from  the  attack  of  one  of  your  bigoted  brothers, 
by  saying  the  words  you  used  were  certainly  from  the  works  of 
an  inspired  writer." 

"  Do  not  be  profane,  sir." 

"  Far  from  it,  my  dear  father,  *  I  speak  it  not  profanely  ;'  but 
I  cannot  be  persuaded  that  the  magnificent  mind  which  seems 
to  have  unclosed  the  book  of  fate,  and  penned  lessons  of  morality 
for  all  ages,  could  have  been  so  directed  by  the  mighty  Mover 
of  all,  if  in  his  sight  such  productions  were  so  wicked  as  you 
believe  them  to  be.  I  can  endure  no  longer  the  tyranny  of 
those  I  consider  as  rebels.  They  are  avowed  enemies  to  the 
established  religion  of  the  country.     Besides,  if  I  am  to  believe 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  45 

them,  they  are  too  good  for  me.  I  am  embarrassed  in  their 
presence — I  feel  my  own  nothingness ;  I,  a  sinner,  shrink  from 
such  purity." 

"  Your  sneering  at  those  good  men  shows  how  well  j^ou  are 
qualified  for  the  profession  you  have  chosen,"  repHed  my  father. 

"  There  are  some  gentlemen,  at  least,"  said  I,  "  in  that  pro- 
fession ;  not  one  amongst  those  who  have  driven  me  from  home. 
Let  me  fly  from  these  noxious  reptiles — these  persecutors  and 
slanderers — '  I  banish  them.'  " 

"That  httle  vagabond,  Garrick,"  said  he,  "bit  you,  when  he 
took  you  in  his  arms  ;"  and  here  our  colloquy  closed. 

Our  painful  interview  ended  by  my  kind  but  rigid  parent 
saying,  that,  since  I  was  determined  on  this  sinful  step,  he 
would  furnish  me  with  the  means  of  accomplishing  my  journey  ; 
though  even  this  was  an  act  that  warred  with  his  conscience. 
A  day  or  two  after  this,  and  after  an  affecting  interview  with 
ray  very  truly  beloved  mother,  who  slipped  a  gift  into  my 
hand  bedewed  by  her  tears,  I  embarked  on  board  the  "  Chester 
heavy,"  in  my  way  to  Parkgate,  whence  I  had  been  advised  to 
sail  for  Dublin  ;  a  passage,  1  believe,  now  nearly  abandoned. 

I  had  now  the  world  before  me  where  to  choose.  There 
was  something  of  uneasy  foreboding  in  the  contemplation  of  my 
future  prospects.  I  could  not  with  indifference  turn  my  back 
on  the  home  of  my  youth;  and  yet  I  bitterly  felt  what  it 
might  have  been,  and  what  it  ought  to  have  been  to  me.  How 
different  the  sensations  with  which  my  brother  must  have  left 
the  same  home  !  when  every  anticipation  of  his  young  and 
ardent  mind  was  joyous ; — his  college  and  studies,  his  youthful 
and  agreeable  companions,  inhabitants  of  a  world  I  was  for- 
bidden to  explore.  He  could  at  once  renounce  the  sanctified 
mechanics,  and  retain  his  parents'  approbation  ! 

I  indulged  in  one  reverie  after  another  during  rather  a  me- 
lancholy journey.  Before  this  I  had  never  been  from  home 
twenty  miles,*  and  was  not  fitted  by  nature  or  education  to 
encounter  the  difficulties  and  hardships  of  even  a  stage-coach 
journey.  I  was  shy  of  my  travelling  companions,  for  I  knew 
nothing  of  what  was  called  the  world ;  and  therefore  did  not 
then,  as  I  have  done  since,  to  my  great  profit,  extract  aught  of 
fun  or  frolic  from  my  expedition. 

It  was  a  dark  and  dreary  morning  when  I  landed  at  the 
Pigeon  House ;  and,  in  spite  of  myself,  a  melancholy  foreboding 

*  Excepting  in  his  visit  to  Canterbury. 


46  THE  LIFE  AND  COREESPONDENCE  OF 

stole  over  me.  I  had  embarked  on  a  dangerous  sea  of  adventure, 
without  rudder,  compass,  or  pilot ;  and  all  seemed  comfortless. 
*'  Where  am  I  ?  who  knows  me  ?  In  a  strange  country,  without 
a  friend,  without  a  recommendation,  and  almost  without  money;" 
for  my  pride  had  struggled  with,  and  mastered  my  prudence. 
It  was  fortunate  that  I  had  not  been  scrupulous  with  my  dear 
mother,  or  I  might  have  rued  it ;  for  the  mite  given  me  by 
the  good  man  my  father  was  nearly  expended  before  I  was  well 
settled  in  my  first  Irish  lodging. 

I  landed  on  the  28th  of  May,  1794  ;  and  a  thinner  and  more 
consumptive  specimen  of  an  Englishman  never  set  foot  on  the 
Emerald  Isle.  As  soon  as  Aurora  condescended  to  develop  her 
plans  for  the  day,  I  was  cheered.  The  goddess  shone  forth  in 
all  her  spring  splendour  ; — the  exceeding  and  novel  drollery  of 
all  the  lower  orders,  with  whom  I  had  my  first  dealings  after  I 
left  the  Custom-house,  came  upon  me  with  such  irresistible 
force,  that  I  could  not  negative  a  proposal,  however  absurd,  for 
laughing.  The  powerful  contrast  that  manifests  itself  on  first 
landing  in  France  is  not  greater  than  that  experienced  by  a 
close  observer  when  he  encounters  the  crowd  of  whimsical  beings 
who  surround  and  pummel  him  after  his  luggage  is  cleared  from 
the  Custom-house  in  Dublin. 


Here  the  Autobiography,  in  a  connected  state,  unfortunately 
terminates  ;  but  some  detached  fragments,  intended  to  have 
formed  a  part  of  it,  will  be  introduced  in  their  proper  places. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  47 


CHAPTER   V. 

Early  letters  to  his  friend  Mr.  John  Litchfield — Departure  from  home — Journey 
to  Ireland — Dublin  —  Introduction  to  Daly  the  Manager — Mrs.  Wells 
(afterwards  Mrs.  Sumbel) — Owenson — Miss  Campion  (afterwards  Mrs. 
Pope) — Miss  Farren — Holman — Honourable  Mrs.  Twisleton — Dishonour- 
able conduct  of  Daly — In  danger  of  being  drowned — An  Irish  Humane 
Society. 

At  this  period  of  Mr.  Mathews's  career,  I  introduce  the 
following  letter  (the  prelude  to  many  others),  written  on  the 
eve  of  his  departure  from  his  paternal  roof  It  will  show  that 
his  affectionate  feelings,  and  love  of  home,  were  only  interrupted, 
not  destroyed,  by  the  ruling  passion ;  and  that  his  family,  how- 
ever objectionable  his  bias  and  pursuits  seemed  to  their  precon- 
ceived notions,  had  become  resigned,  if  not  reconciled,  to  the 
course  of  life  he  had  determined  to  pursue. 

His  last  amiable  consideration  for  those  whom  he  neverthe- 
less felt  irresistibly  compelled  to  quit,  proves  the  tenderness 
inherent  in  his  nature,  and  that  in  leaving,  though  voluntarily, 
for  the  first  time,  his  excellent  parents  and  the  roof  under  which 
he  was  born,  he  was  not  therefore  divested  of  that  portion  of 
suffering  which  a  good  mind  and  feeling  heart  ever  undergo  at  a 
necessity  of  inflicting  pain  on  those  whose  love  and  good  inten- 
tions are  indisputable,  even  when  the  manner  of  evincing  them 
is  inimical  to  the  happiness  they  would  promote. 

The  ensuing  letters  are  the  compositions  of  a  youth,  much 
younger  than  his  years,  from  the  circumstances  of  his  bringing- 
up,  and  his  too  long  confinement  to 

**  Home,  -where  small  experience  grows," 

His  health  from  childhood  had  been  weak ;  his  growth  so  rapid 
as  to  give  serious  apprehensions  that  his  life  would  terminate 
early.  He  was,  besides  this,  his  mother's  darling ;  and  he  might 
be  said,  in  familiar  phrase,  to  have  been  "  tied  to  her  apron- 
string"  much  longer  than  male  children  are  expected  to  be 
petted.  This  mode  of  treatment,  while  it  kept  his  mind  from 
the   contamination    of  evil,  narrowed  the  sphere  of  his  ideas. 


48  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

He  was  scarcely  emancipated  from  home  prejudices  and  fire-side 
habits  (for  his  term  at  a  public  school  was  not  of  long  duration), 
and  the  custom,  which  his  fond  mother  insisted  on,  of  his  passing 
every  allowed  period  of  absence  from  school  duties  under  her 
own  eye,  precluded  that  wholesome  and  necessary  experience 
which  a  community  of  boys  inevitably  gives,  in  little,  of  the 
grown-up  world  before  them. 

The  modesty  of  his  self-opinion  ;  the  generosity  with  which 
he  judges  the  conduct  and  merits  of  those  about  him  ;  his  manly 
though  meek  endurance  not  only  of  the  trials  he  had  incurred 
by  his  resignation  of  his  home  prospects,  but  even  of  the  in- 
justice which  he  vi^as  not  prepared  to  expect ;  his  integrity  and 
good  temper ;  his  proud  independence  and  honourable  notions — 
all  combine  to  constitute  these  letters  a  most  interesting  feature 
in  the  opening  of  his  eventful  history.  They  assuredly  display 
the  native  goodness  of  his  disposition,  while  they  must  mirth- 
fully amuse  every  person  versed  in  theatricals  and  acquainted 
with  the  genius  which,  by  dint  of  the  most  laborious  struggles, 
and  most  untiring  perseverance,  raised  its  possessor  to  the  height 
of  the  profession  he  so  ornamented.  What  but  smiles  can 
attend  upon  those  relations  which  present  him  in  characters 
not  only  of  the  most  insignificant  nature,  but  in  style  so  prepos- 
terous, under  the  present  recollections  of  the  performer !  * 

To  Mr.  John  Litchfield,  Jun. 

Strand,  28th  May,  1794. 

Deae  Litchfield, — As  I  leave  town  at  six  o'clock  to-morrow 
morning,  I  must  pass  this  evening  at  home.  My  father  and  mother 
have  a  very  particular  desire  thcit  you  should  sup  with  them  ;  and  this 
being  the  last  evening  we  can  spend  together  for  sometime,  I  hope  you 
will  favour  us  with  your  company. 

As  for  the  play,  you  can  see  the  new  piece  any^  other  evening;  and 
"  Alexander"  is  not  to  be  endured.  We  can  drink  our  parting  glass  as 
comfortably  in  our  room,  nay,  I  hope  more  so,  than  at  Williams's.f  I 
must  pass  this  evening  with  you  ;  therefore  do  not  tear  me  from  home. 

Your  mother  was  so  good  as  to  ask  me  to  tea  before  I  went ;  I  shall 
therefore  come  down  this  afternoon.  Be  good  enough  to  look  at  my 
books,  and  send  them  by  George,  as  I  wish  to  pack  them  up. 

*  I  take  this  opportunity  of  thanking  Mr.  Litchfield  for  the  loan  of  these 
letters.  But  for  Lis  kindness,  the  whole  of  the  period  of  Mr.  Mathews's 
life,  to  which  they  relate,  must  have  been  a  total  blank,  excepting  a  few 
anecdotes  left  upon  my  memory,  from  my  husband's  occasional  repetition  of 
them. 

+  A  tavern  in  Bow-street,  which  was,  I  am  informed,  much  frequented 
the  stage-stricken. 


a  of    I 
by    J 

m 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  49 

I  have  sent  you  Boaden's  play  ;  and  also  "  Travellers  in  Switzerland." 
This  latter  is  the  only  new  play  I  have. 

Yours  sincerely,  Charles  Mathews. 


To  Mr.  John  Litchjleld,  Jun. 

Chester,  May  31st,  1794. 

Dear  Litchfield, — I  arrived  in  this  city  last  night  at  nine  o'clock, 
at  a  very  large  and  commodious  inn.  Mr.  Hitchcock  was  obliged  to 
leave  on  Wednesday,  but  left  me  a  letter  of  direction  to  find  him  in 
Ireland.  I  met  with  an  Irish  gentleman,  of  the  army,  in  the  coach, 
who  was  going  to  Dublin ;  and  he  has  recommended  me  to  a  captain  of 
a  packet,  whom  we  met  here.  We  sail  to-morrow  morning  at  eight 
o'clock,  and  leave  Chester  at  two  this  afternoon  for  Parkgate.  I  break- 
fasted yesterday  at  Litchfield,  where  I  had  the  pleasure  to  find  that 
Garrick  and  Johnson  were  well  reraerab3red.  One  of  the  inhabitants 
showed  me  where  Johnson  was  born ;  and  there  are  some  of  the 
Garricks  now  in  the  town.  It  is  their  market-day  here;  and  the 
situation  from  the  inn  is  very  similar  to  that  in  the  market  at  Canter- 
bury, with  the  same  kind  of  entrance  to  the  cathedral.  I  have  been 
very  fortunate  here  at  breakfast.  I  unexpectedly  met  with  a  couple  of 
muffins  ;  and  a  fine  leg  of  pork  is  now  being  dressed  for  dinner !  I 
cannot  hear  from  you  till  I  get  to  Dublin,  from  whence  I  will  write  as 
soon  as  I  arrive.  Remember  me  most  affectionately  to  all  your  family, 
and  to  all  others  who  think  me  worth  inquiring  after  j  and  believe  me 
to  be 

Yours  unalterahlj'-,        Charles  Mathews. 

(Saturday,  One  o'clock.) 


To  Mr.  John  Litchfield,  Jun. 

Dublin,  June  4th,  1794. 

Dear  Litchfield, — I  left  Parkgate  on  Sunday  last  at  two  o'clock, 
and  arrived  in  Dublin  last  night  at  eleven,  which  is  reckoned  a  re- 
markably tedious  passage,  as  they  frequently  cross  in  fourteen  hours. 
I  was  extremely  well  during  the  voyage,  a  very  uncommon  circumstance 
on  board.  I  slept  at  an  hotel,  and  found  Mr.  Hitchcock  this  morning, 
who  walked  about  Dublin  with  me  for  two  hours,  to  look  for  a  lodging; 
all  of  which  I  found  most  extravagantly  dear.  I  have  got  one  chamber, 
with  a  closet  to  dress  in,  for  6*.  Qd.  a-week,  which  in  English  money  is 
only  Qs.  It  is  by  far  the  handsomest  lodging  I  met  with,  and,  here,  is. 
reckoned  wonderfully  cheap  !  I  met  with  several  inferior,  at  8*.  and 
upwards,  to  155. ;  single  rooms,  with  ragged  beds.  You  recollect,  on 
our  last  meeting,  recommending  me  to  one  at  3*. ;  conceive,  then,  after 
walking  two  hours,  to  be  surprised  at  meeting  with  one  so  cheap  as  6*. 

I  was  this  morning  introduced  to  Daly,  who  behaved  very  politely  to' 
me.     He  is  as  tall  and  corpulent  as  Williams  in  Bow-street.     I  am  to 


Sd  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

rehearse  Jemmy  Jumps  to-morrow  morning ;  and  I  expect  to  play  next 
Monday,  but  am  not  quite  certain  what  character.  The  play  this 
evening  is  "  He  would  be  a  Soldier,"  and  the  farce  of  "All  the  World's 
a  Stage,"  by  command  of  the  Lord-Lieutenant.  At  present  they  have 
no  professed  low  comedian.  Meadows,  a  singer  (who  performs  Caleb 
to-night),  is  the  only  actor  of  any  consequence  in  this  line.  I  had 
some  conversation  with  Mrs.  Wells  this  morning  in  the  green-room. 
I  talked  of  The  World  newspaper  to  lier.  She  speaks  very  highly  of 
Fuller  and  J.  Hewerdine,  but  not  so  of  Swan.  When  I  told  her  he 
was  in  the  militia,  she  laughed  most  extravagantly.  I  shall  write  as 
soon  as  possible  again  to  you  to  tell  you  something  of  this  very  superb 
city.  Direct  to  me,  at  Mrs.  Moland's,  No.  14,  Exchequer- street, 
Dublin ;  and  believe  me  to  be 

Yours  ever  most  affectionately,        Charles  Mathews. 


To  Mr,  John  Litchfield,  Jun. 

Dublin,  June  14th,  1794. 
Dear  Litchfield, — I  admire  Dublin  exceedingly.  You  will  no 
doubt  be  surprised  to  hear  that  I  am  going  to  leave  it.  Daly  has 
behaved  extremely  ill  to  me ;  for  he  has  put  me  off  from  day  to  day 
with  promises  of  playing,  and  he  has  as  often  disappointed  me.  I 
promised  Mrs.  Wells  to  play  for  her  benefit.  It  will  be  next  Thursday. 
I  am  to  play  Lingo,  and,  I  believe,  Jacob.  I  was  recommended  by 
one  of  the  company  to  apply  to  Owenson,  who  is  making  up  a  company 
to  go  to  Kilkenny,  one  of  the  most  important  towns  in  Ireland. 
Owenson*  has  played  all  the  Irish  characters  in  Daly's  company  for 
many  years  past.  I  was  introduced  to  him,  and  spoke  Sir  A.  Absolute, 
Jacob,  and  Lenitive.  He  was  very  well  satisfied ;  and  said,  if  I  was 
going  on  the  stage  in  that  line,  I  might  depend  on  a  first  situation  in 
his  company.  All  the  players  here  speak  well  of  him,  and  would  be 
glad  to  go  with  him,  and  leave  Daly.  Those  who  have  no  articles  have 
not  hesitated,  some  to  join  Moss,  and  others  Owenson.  Daly  is  hated 
by  all  the  performers,  scarcely  any  of  whom  can  get  any  money  from 
him.  Owenson  opens  his  theatre  on  Monday,  23rd.  I  expect  to  leave 
Dublin  on  Friday  next.  Daly  met  me,  and  said,  he  had  heard  I  was 
going  with  Owenson  ;  and  asked  me  if  I  would  like  to  play  "  walking 
gentlemen."  I  told  him,  by  no  means.  It  was  his  intention  to 
keep  me  in  Dublin  until  I  had  spent  all  my  money,  and  then  have 
oflPered  me  a  small  salary,  and  made  me  play  "  walking  gentlemen,"  a 
proposal  which  I  must  have  accepted  rather  than  starve.  Cherry,  the 
comedian,  is  coming  from  York,  and  Wathen  from  London  ;  of  course 
there  would  have  been  no  situation  for  me  in  that  line.  The  company 
here  is  very  small  and  very  bad ;  Palmer,  Clinch,  Moss,  and  several 
others  having  left  it.  Hargrave  is  a  good  actor,  and  his  voice  very 
pleasant.     He  is  the  only  man  in  tragedy  that  is  decent  now.     Mrs. 

*  Owenson  was  the  father  of  Lady  Morgan. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  51 

Kennedy  is  the  ppncipal  lady  in  comedy,  and  a  Miss  Champion*  in 
tragedy.  Mrs.  Hitchcock  is  a  tolerably  good  actress  in  Mrs.  Bland's 
line.  Her  husband  is  much  respected  in  the  company ;  but  they  all 
look  upon  him  as  a  tool  of  Daly.  I  have  seen  Daly  play  the  Copper 
Captain  extremely  well ;  that  and  Walter  are  the  only  characters  I 
have  yet  seen  him  in.  There  are  a  vast  number  of  places  taken  already 
for  Miss  Farren's  first,  second,  third,  and  fourth  nights,  but  very  few 
for  Holman  and  Mrs.  Twisleton.  As  soon  as  you  receive  this,  look  at 
the  Irish  paper,  and  at  The  World,  and  you  will  perhaps  see  me  adver- 
tised for  Mrs.  Wells's  night. 

I  am,  yours  ever  most  affectionately,        Chaeles  Mathews. 


To  Mr.  William  Mathews. 

Dublin,  June  14tli,  1794. 

Deae  William, — I  have  been  in  this  city  nearly  a  fortnight,  and 
of  course  have  had  time  enough  to  find  out  its  beauties  and  deformities, 
both  of  which  are  numberless.  I  cannot  sufiiciently  admire  the 
buildings.  There  is  a  university  here — the  only  one  in  Ireland.  There 
are  several  hundred  students,  who  dress  in  the  same  manner  as  those  of 
Cambridge  and  Oxford.  It  is  a  very  superb  building,  and  boasts  some 
very  fine  gardens,  which  are  public.  There  are  scarcely  any  public 
amusements ;  only  one  playhouse,  and  a  place  they  call  the  Rotunda, 
for  concerts.  The  politicians,  I  think,  are  more  numerous,  and  by  far 
more  violent,  than  those  in  London. 

Daly  has  treated  me  very  meanly,  having  continually  put  me  off  with 
promises  of  playing.  Mrs.  Wells's  benefit  is  next  Thursday,  when  I 
expect  to  play  Jacob  Gawky  and  Lingo.  I  mean  to  leave  Daly,  and 
go  with  a  new  company  to  Kilkenny.  All  give  him  a  most  dreadful 
character,  and  I  shall  be  glad  to  escape  from  him. 

Let  me  know  whether  you  went  to  the  masquerade  on  the  5th 
instant.  The  account  of  it  in  The  Courier  mentioned  a  master  of 
arts  as  a  good  mask.  Was  it  you  ?  I  am  delighted  with  the  walks 
about  Dublin.     Adieu. 

Yours  most  affectionately,        Chaeles  Mathews. 


To  Mr.  John  Litchfield,  Jun» 

Dublin,  June  23rd,  1794. 
Deae  Litchfield, — I  received  yours  last  Thursday  with  a  great 
deal  of  pleasure. 

On  Thursday  evening  I  made  my  first  appearance,  for  Mrs.  Wells's 
benefit,  in  Jacob  and  Lingo.  The  house  was  tolerably  well  filled,  and 
I  was  received  in  a  manner  that  exceeded  my  greatest  expectations. 
The  scene  in  Jacob,  where  he  mimics  the  minuet,  was  highlj'^  applauded ; 
but  Lingo  gained  me  much  more.     I  had  an  excellent  dress,  and  my 

*  Afterwards  the  second  wife  of  Pope  the  actor. 
E  2 


S2  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

■wig  did  a  vast  deal  for  me.  The  songs  were  very  much  approved  of, 
judging  from  the  applause.  The  two  last  were  encored :  "  Amo,  amas" 
was  one,  and  "  Of  all  the  pretty  flowers,"  the  other.  Each  time  I 
came  to  the  part  of  "  To  be  sure  I  did  !"  I  gained  bursts  of  applause. 
When  I  had  sung  it  I  made  my  exit,  but  it  was  loudly  called  for  again. 
I  was  somewhat  fatigued,  and  told  the  performers  to  go  on  for  the 
next  scene.  Laura  and  Eugene  went  on,  and  were  hissed  off.  I  was, 
of  course,  obliged  to  sing  it,  and  gave  veiy  general  satisfaction.  The 
musicians  declared  that  the  song  was  never  so  well  sung  in  the  theatre 
before.  I  received  numerous  compliments,  and  was  told  that  the  part 
liad  not  been  so  well  performed  since  O'Reilly  played  it.  I  was  dis- 
tinctly heard  in  every  part  of  the  house,  which  is  larger  than  the 
Haymarket  Theatre.*  Baly  sent  for  me  on  Friday,  and  declared  him- 
self very  well  content  with  my  performance,  and  offered  a  guinea  per 
week.  I  was  obliged  to  accept  of  it,  as  Owenson  has  been  disappointed 
of  his  theatre  in  Kilkenny,  and  cannot  open  it  before  August.  Cherry 
is  coming  here  from  York,  and  Wathen  from  Richmond.  Though  I 
was  so  well  received,  I  cannot  expect  to  get  all  the  capital  low  comedy 
parts  at  first.  Hitchcock  behaves  very  well  to  me,  and  will  ensure  me 
every  farthing  of  my  mone^^  I  am  to  play  second  and  third  parts  in 
tragedy  and  genteel  comedy,  and  occasionally  parts  in  low  comedy.     I 

*  The  criticism  in  the  Dublin  paper  upon  this  performance  fully  corroborates 
the  foregoing  account. 

''  Theatre  Royal,  Dublin,  June  the  19th,  1794. 

"Mrs.  Wells's  benefit  was  on  Monday,  the  19th  of  June,  when  'The 
Chapter  of  Accidents'  and  the  *  Agreeable  Surprise'  were  performed  t6  a  very 
elegant  audience,  f  Independently  of  her  unrivalled  imitations,  there  was  the 
attraction  of  a  new  performer,  of  the  name  of  Mathews,  in  the  characters  of 
Jacob  and  Lingo.  The  introduction  of  a  young  actor  in  two  such  different 
characters  on  the  same  night  was  rather  singular,  and  the  task  to  the  per- 
former indisputably  very  arduous.  He  went  through  them  both,  however,  in 
a  very  creditable  style,  and  received  the  most  flattering  marks  of  approbation. 
Jle  assumed  the  Somersetshire  dialect  very  happily,  and  discovered  in  the 
course  of  the  performance  very  extraordinary  talents  in  low  comedy.  The 
scene  where  GawTcy  mimics  the  minuet  was  highly  relished  by  the  audience. 
Flattering  as  was  his  reception  in  Jacob,  his  performance  of  Lingo  was  cer- 
tainly superior,  and  met,  if  possible,  with  still  louder  applause.  The  songs  of 
*  Amo,  amas,'  and  '  Of  all  the  pretty  flowers, '  were  sung  with  infinite  humour, 
and  were  universally  encored.  The  turn  of  '  To  be  sure  I  did  !'  was  neatly 
managed,  and  gained  him  repeated  applause.  The  two  above-mentioned  songs 
were  never  so  well  given  in  this  theatre,  and  the  part,  on  the  whole,  has  not 
been  so  successfully  played  since  0'Reilly.+  Moss  was  very  inferior.  Mr. 
Mathews's  manner  of  playing  is  quite  original,  and  he  has  tolerable  freedom  in 
action.  The  turn  of  his  features  is  irresistibly  comic,  and  on  the  whole,  we 
may  reckon  him  a  very  desirable  acquisition  to  the  Irish  stage." 


+  Mrs.  Wells,    afterwards  Mrs.  Sumbel,  was  the  original  performer 
Cowslip. 

X  A  great  comic  genius,  who  died  young. 


r  of  I 

1 


CHAELES  MATHEWS.  53 

am  promised  Mundy,  in  "  The  Farmer,"  when  Wathen  plays  Jemmy 
Jumps.  They  never  give  more  than  \l.  \s.  to  a  young  actor.  Most 
of  the  salaries  here  are  what  they  call  "  play-house  pay  ;"  that  is,  pay- 
ment only  each  night  they  play ;  so  that  a  man  engaged  at  three  pounds 
a-week,  it'  he  performs  three  times  a  week  only,  has  only  half  of  his 
salary.  I  am  to  be  paid  if  I  play  only  once,  and  am  not  obliged  to 
take  "  a  benefit."  Daly  deducts  money  for  a  benefit  from  all  those  who 
are  engaged  at  the  play-house  pay.  I  am  therefore  equally  well  situated 
with  those  who  have  three  pounds.  Daly  bears  the  worst  of  characters  ; 
but  I  have  dependence  on  Hitchcock,  who  is  much  beloved,  and  has  great 
influence  in  the  theatre-  As  manager,  he  disposes  of  all  the  characters. 
Of  course  he  will  sometimes  serve  me.  He  treats  me  very  well,  and 
invites  me  frequently  to  his  house.  I  see  my  name  now  in  the  bills  for 
the  first  time  : — "  To-morrow  evening,  '  Lear ;'  Albany,  Mr.  Mathews  !" 
It  is  a  pretty  part  for  its  length,  and  each  one  I  perform  will  make  me 
more  used  to  the  stage.  Hitchcock  has  promised  to  let  me  play 
Lenitive,  if  he  can  get  up  the  piece.  It  has  not  been  played  since 
Moss  left  them.  They  have  lost  their  Label,  Juba,  and  Caroline ;  so 
that  its  revival  will  be  attended  with  some  difficulty.  Holman,  it  is 
said,  has  arrived,  but  I  have  not  yet  seen  him.  He  is  advertised  to 
play  in  "  Romeo  and  Juliet"  on  Wednesday ;  Mrs.  Twisleton*  the 
Juliet.  Among  their  plays  are,  "  Don  Sebastian"  (Holman,  Dorax^ 
Mrs.  T.,  Almeyda) ;  "  Fontainville  Forest,"  "  Venice  Preserved,"  and 
*'  Alexander."  Miss  Farrenf  is  expected  every  day.  She  will  draw 
very  crowded  houses,  as  the  boxes  for  her  nights  are  extremely  well 
taken.  Holman  and  Mrs.  T.  are  not  expected  to  draw  much.  We 
have  played  since  I  have  been  here — "  He  would  be  a  Soldier ;"  "  Re- 
cruiting Officer;"  "  Rule  a  Wife  and  have  a  Wife"  (Hargrave,  Leon — 
very  good  acting ;  Daly,  Copper  Captain ;  JEstifania,  Mrs.  Kennedy 
— both  well);  "Jane  Shore"  {Shore,  Mrs.  Wells;  Alicia,  Miss 
Champion, — this  actress,  who  has  been  the  heroine  at  the  private 
theatre  in  Fishamble-street,  played  here  two  years  back,  and  is  a  great 
favourite) ;  "  Grecian  Daughter ;"  "  Gamester ;"  "  Chapter  of  Accidents'" 
{Jacob,  moi-meme — of  course  I  very  well !  hem  !  Bridget,  Mrs.  Wells) ; 
"  Wild  Oats."  "  The  Children  in  the  Wood"  is  played  extremely  well. 
The  Children  are  superior  to  those  in  London.  Hargrave  is  a  very 
improving  actor ;  Daly,  good  in  genteel  comedy ;  Mrs.  Kennedy,  in 
genteel  comedy,  a  very  good  actress.  Hurst,  in  Hull's  line,  admirable. 
Cunningham,  in  "  fops,"  is  a  very  good  actor ;  I  think  he  would  succeed 
very  well  in  London  in  R.  Palmer's  place.  He  is  a  very  genteel  young 
man,  and  a  pleasant  companion,  and  the  only  one  in  the  company  with 
whom  I  associate.  Miss  Brett,  a  very  good  singer,  and  very  pretty 
actress  in  Mrs.  Bland's  line.  Miss  Farren's  plays  are  **  Know  your 
own  Mind ;"  "Hypocrite ;"  "  School  for  Scandal;"  "  Belle's  Stratagem ;" 
<fcc. ;  and  the  farce  of  "  The  Citizen."  Hargrave  is  the  only  man, 
except  Hurst,  who  is  decent  in  tragedy.  They  give  him  five  pounds  a- 
week  certain ;  and  he  is  very  regularly  paid.  They  are  terribly  at  a 
*  The  Hon.  Mrs.  Twisleton.  f  Afterwards  Countess  of  Derby. 


54}  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

loss  for  tragedians  ;  and  every  man  is  obliged  to  play  in  them,  whether 
suited  or  not.  "  Fontainville  Forest"  is  printed  in  Dublin — a  very 
paltry  edition.  When  it  is  performed,  Hargrave  is  to  be  the  Mar" 
guess;  Hurst,  Peter;  Cunningham,  Louis,  and  myself  the  Phantom. 
I  expected  to  have  been  Louis,  but  Cunningham  was  cast  for  it  before 
I  came  out.  Boaden  said  he  wished  me  to  be  the  Ghost.  Remember 
me  to  him,  and  tell  him  of  my  success,  and  the  cast  of  his  tragedy.  I 
have  dined  with  W.  Palmer,  to  whom  Cunningham  introduced  me. 
He  is  very  much  like  his  brother  Bob,  and  was  a  great  favourite  here. 
He  is  married,  and  lives  elegantly.  He  has  six  pounds  per  week ; 
Moss,  ten.  I  will  thank  you  not  to  tell  any  one  what  salary  I  have 
got,  as  you  know  people  unacquainted  with  the  stage  will  expect  to 
hear  I  receive  much  more,  and  if  they  hear  this,  they  will  perhaps 
judge  unfavourably  of  my  reception.  My  salary  is  to  be  raised  in  the 
winter.  I  mean  to  board  with  a  family,  as  I  cannot  otherwise  live  on 
the  money  I  receive.  The  wardrobe  and  conduct  of  the  theatre  are 
much  better  than  I  expected  to  find  them.  They  dress  their  plays  in 
general  very  well.  The  Grecian  Daughter  was  dressed  entirely  in 
"  shapes,"  all  belonging  to  the  theatre ;  and  the  dress  of  Gloster  in 
"Jane  Shore"  was  equally  elegant  with  that  worn  by  Harley*  at 
Covent  Garden.  I  expected  to  be  some  distance  hence  before  I  could 
receive  another  letter  Irom  you.  It  is,  however,  much  better  to  be  iu 
Dublin  than  in  the  country  parts  of  Ireland,  where  very  little  repu- 
tation is  to  be  gained.  I  thank  you  for  your  concern  about  my 
"wiggery,"  which  escaped  the  officer's  "  rude  gripe,"  without  discovery. 
They  only  opened  the  tops  of  my  trunk  and  portmanteau,  but  pro- 
ceeded no  farther.  Adieu !  and  be  convinced  of  the  unalterable  af- 
fection of  yours,  Chaeles  Mathews, 

of  the  Theatre  Royal,  Crow  Street,  Dublin. — Hem ! 

In  the  foregoing  letter  it  is  impossible  to  read  his  comment 
upon  the  merit  of  Albany,  in  "  Lear,"  without  a  smile.  "  I  see 
my  name  in  the  bills  for  the  first  time — Albany,  Mr.  Mathews ! 
It  is  a  pretty  part,  for  its  length."  (!)  Let  those  who  have 
known  Mr.  Mathews  in  his  high-day  remember  this  character, 
and  amuse  themselves  at  the  idea  of  his  representing  it. 

It  is  noticeable  that  his  comments  upon  the  performers 
named  are  very  judicious.  Their  merits,  well  known  afterwards, 
proved  his  judgment  to  be  correct  at  that  time.  Mr.  Hargrave 
performed  as  a  tragedian  at  Covent  Garden  Theatre  in  ISOdd  or 
1805,  previously  to  his  retirement  from  the  stage. 

To  Mr.  John  Litchfield,  Jun. 

Dublin,  July  20th,  1794. 
Deae  Litchfield, — "  Fontainville  Forest"  has  been  played  three 
*  Thfi  tragedian. 


^ 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  55 

times  with  very  great  success.  I  played  the  Phantom,  and  got  great 
applause.  I  had  a  very  fine  dress,  and  very  like  that  which  Follet 
wears.  The  dresses  in  general  were  new,  and  the  scenery  also.  Hoi- 
man's  dress  was  plain,  but  very  handsome.  Hargrave's,  for  the 
Marquess,  extremely  splendid.  Holman  played  some  parts  of  La 
Motte  very  finely ;  and  Hargrave  did  great  justice  to  the  Marquess, 
The  same  points  told  each  night,  as  in  London,  but  particularly  that 
where  La  Motte  tells  the  Marquess  he  buried  Adeline  "  in  a  chest." 
Each  night  it  gained  five  or  six  peals  of  applause.  Holman  and  Mrs. 
Twisleton  perform  only  three  nights  more.  They  have  had  but  very 
poor  houses,  in  comparison  with  Miss  Farren,  who  is  entirely  the 
fashion.  Cherry  came  out  in  Sir  Peter  Teazle  and  Lazarillo  on. 
Wednesday  last.  He  is  a  very  good  actor,  but  extremely  short,  much 
more  so  than  Quick.  Miss  Farren  has  played  eight  nights,  and  has 
ten  more  to  come.  Each  night  has  been  an  overflow.  There  is  some 
talk  of  Kemble  coming  here.  I  want  to  hear  how  they  go  on  at  the 
Haymarket,  and  of  the  alterations  at  Covent  Garden.  I  see  very  few 
English  papers  here,  and  know  nothing  of  the  London  theatricals.  Is 
the  anecdote  of  Palmer  and  the  Prize  case  true.* 

I  am  very  pleasantly  situated  in  a  house,  where  I  board  and  lodge. 
I  have  a  room  to  myself,  and  live  extremely  well  for  a  half  a  guinea 
per  week.  There  are  two  other  performers,  both  English  people,  who 
board  with  me.  The  landlady  of  the  house  is  a  widow,  and  a  very 
pleasant  woman.  I  can  make  my  cash  hold  out  very  well,  but  am  in 
want  of  many  stage  properties,  particularly  for  tragedy;  buskins, 
russet  boots)  Spanish  hat,  cocked  hat,  sword,  ruff,  &c. 

Yours  ever  most  affectionately,         Chaeles  Mathews. 

_  Direct  to  Mrs.  Byrn's,  No.  24,  Temple  Bar,  Dublin, 


To  Mr,  JoJin  Litchfield,  Jun. 

Dublin,  August  3rd,  1794. 
Dear  Litchfield, — On  opening  your  packet  I  found  a  letter  from 
my  father,  a  few  lines  from  my   brother,  and  an  introduction  from 
Boaden  to  Holman. 

I  am  very  much  obliged  to  you  for  the  satisfaction  you  express  at  my 
success.  My  sentiments  were  exactly  similar  to  your  own.  I  was 
very  doubtful  of  the  event,  eager  as  1  was  to  embrace  so  hazardous  a 

*  This  inquiry  alludes  to  Mr.  John  Palmer,  whose  embarrassed  circum- 
stances caused  him  at  this  time  to  live  in  his  dressing-room  at  Drury-Lane 
Theatre ;  and  when  the  Haymarket  re- opened  for  the  summer  season,  at  which 
he  was  engaged,  the  fear  of  arrest  suggested  the  expedient  of  conveying  him 
with  a  cart  full  of  scenery,  in  one  of  the  cabinets  used  in  **The  Prize  j"  and 
in  this  manner  he  actually  was  removed  from  one  theatre  to  the  other.  For- 
merly a  patent  theatre  was  considered  as  a  sort  of  theatrical  Alsatia  for  money- 
owing  criminals — a  sanctuary  from  "John  Doe  and  Richard  Roe." 


56  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OP 

profession ;  I  was  however  much  encouraged  from  my  attempt  in  that 
"  hole"*  which  you  mention,  and  thought  myself  extremely  fortunate 
in  having  the  opportunity  of  performing  Jacob,  of  which  my  friends  in 
London  on  that  occasion  were  good  enough  to  approve.  The  attempt 
fully  answered  my  wishes.  Everything  was  superior  here.  I  had  room 
on  the  stage,  and  every  advantage  of  regularity,  with  the  aid  of  per- 
formers who  understood  what  they  were  about,  and  were  able  to  assist 
me.  I  had  also  the  advantage  of  being  the  only  person  who  had  played 
the  character  for  two  seasons.  But  if  these  were  my  advantages  in 
Jacob,  it  was  not  so  with  Lingo,  the  recollection  of  Cornellies,  who 
was  a  great  favourite,  and  the  original  in  Lingo,  being  fresh  in  the 
minds  of  the  audience,  and  coming  after  Moss,  who  had  played  it 
within  a  fortnight.  These  were  powerful  reasons  to  make  me  fear 
success  in  that  character.  Thank  heaven,  however,  I  combated  these ; 
and,  on  my  entrance  the  second  time  to  perform  it,  I  was  saluted  very 
flatteringly.  It  is  the  custom  here,  in  the  galleries,  previously  to 
applauding  a  performer  on  his  entrance,  to  call  for  it.  For  instance, 
when  Cherry  enters,  the  cry  is  instantly,  "  A  clap  for  Cherry  !"  and  if 
any  performer  displeases  them,  a  groan  is  called  for.  This  has  several 
times  happened  when  I  have  been  on  the  stage  in  an  inferior  character 
in  tragedy.  On  such  occasions  they  have  called  out  "  A  clap  for  Lingo!" 
which  is  very  flattering,  and  frequently  gives  me  that  confidence  which 
I  very  much  stand  in  need  of. 

I  do  not  think  myself  at  all  ill-used  by  having  only  a  guinea  a- week. 
A  young  performer  cannot  expect  a  large  salary  ;  and  the  salaries  here 
are  by  no  means  great.  However,  I  thank  you  for  concealing  the  sum 
from  people  whom  you  have  told  of  my  success.  It  is  a  general  idea 
with  those  who  are  unacquainted  with  the  theatre,  that  the  salaries  are 
much  larger  than  they  really  are.  I  have  not  entered  into  any  articles 
with  Daly,  nor  do  I  mean  to  do  so.  I  should  always  wish  to  have  it  in 
power  to  leave  him  if  a  superior  situation  offered. 

I  was  much  entertained  by  your  account  of  the  masquerade ;  and 
am  much  obliged  to  you  for  sending  me  the  sham  bill.  On  opening 
one  of  the  packets,  this  bill  fell  out  in  the  green-room,  where  I  opened 
it.  At  first  I  was  deceived,  and  thought  fortune  had  been  uncommonly 
favourable,  but  was  very  soon  undeceived.  However,  I  did  not  tell  the 
people  to  the  contrary,  who  all  supposed  I  had  received  a  bank  bill.  It 
is  a  good  thing  to  be  imagined  rich.  Daly  was  in  the  green-room  at 
the  time,  which  I  was  glad  of.  I  really  think  that  he  does  not  deserve 
so  bad  a  character  as  he  in  general  bears.  He  has  behaved  very  well 
to  me,  and  takes  great  notice  of  me ;  I  have  been  paid  ver;f  regularly, 
and  have  not  been  fined  a  farthing. 

I  left  England  without  calling  on  Wayte,  to  whom  I  am  indebted 
for  a  ^e\N  articles,  among  which  are  the  dresses  for  the  private  play.  I 
shall  be  very  much  obliged  to  you  if  you  will  call  on  him  to  make  an 
apology  for  my  neglect,  and  tell  him  I  will  remit  the  money  as  soon  as 
it  is  in  my  power. 

*  The  private  theatre,  in  a  dirty  street  called  "  Short's  Gardens." 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  57 

My  brother  tells  me  that  Boaden  mentioned  me  in  The  Oracle. 
Will  you  copy  it  for  me,  and  send  it  with  what  he  said  of  "  Fontain- 
ville  Forest,"  in  your  next  packet?  This  will  save  me  Is.  Id.  Every- 
thing helps  on  these  occasions,  and  I  must  be  frugal. 

I  very  much  feel  the  loss  of  my  box  of  plays,  which  would  be  very 
useful  to  me  here ;  but  the  expense  of  having  them  over  would  be  too 
great,  and  I  cannot  afford  it.  They  are  already  packed  up  at  home, 
but  I  believe  there  are  upwards  of  2  cwt. 

There  are  two  people  from  this  theatre  engaged  at  Covent  Garden — 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Davenport.  He  is  a  very  respectable  performer  in  a 
general  line,  but  mostly  "  old  men,"  and  she  is  a  very  good  actress  in 
Mrs.  Webb's  line.*  She  is  also  very  serviceable  to  a  theatre  in  second- 
rate  "  genteel  comedy"  and  tragedy.  She  played  Madame  La  Motte 
very  well. — Believe  me  to  be  yours  ever  most  affectionately^ 

Charles  Mathews. 

24,  Temple-row. 

During  the  engagement  of  Miss  Farren  (afterwards  Countess 
of  Derby)  Mr.  Mathews  was  obliged  to  play  the  part  of  Beau- 
fort \n  " The  Citizen."  Now,  of  all  "walking  gentlemen,"  as 
such  are  technically  called,  Beaufort  is  the  most  dreaded  by 
young  men ;  being  an  insipid,  sighing  dangler,  the  character  is 
generally  given  to  the  most  insignificant  actor  in  the  company, 
if  he  be  young  enough  to  be  "sent  on"  for  a  lover.  Imagine, 
then,  a  novice  in  this  part,  one  whose  intention  to  be  a  "  low 
comedian"  was  thwarted  by  the  wily  manager,  whose  agent  had 
in  fact  kidnapped  him  over,  as  cunningly  as  gipsies  delude  chil- 
dren from  their  homes  with  sweet  and  fair  promises,  only  to 
break  them  as  soon  as  they  have  their  dupes  in  their  power. 
Daly  was  so  well  known  by  experienced  people  in  the  profession, 
that  he  was  fain  to  entice  the  young  and  unsuspicious,  and 
therefore  sent  one  of  his  agents  to  England  occasionally  in  order 
to  entrap  those  whom  he  might  meet  there,  for  a  cast  of  cha- 
racters he  found  it  difficult  to  get  filled.  Mr.  Hitchcock  dis- 
covered a  young  man  who  wished  to  play  Lingo ;  this,  then, 
was  the  bait  with  which  he  covered  the  hook,  and  with  such 
taking  promises  he  flattered  and  led  him  on  with  hopes  never 
intended  to  be  realized,  tickling  him  like  a  trout,  till  he  fell  a 
willing  victim  into  the  hands  of  his  tempter.  It  is  true,  as  he 
has  related,  that  he  did  play  his  stipulated  part  of  Lingo,  but  it 
was  immediately  followed  up  by  Lamp,  Albany,  the  Noble 
County  Baris,  and  such  like  dawdling  worthies,  and  Beaufort — 
the  dreaded  Beaufort. 

*  Mrs.  Davenport,  since  the  inimitable  "Old  Woman"  of  Covent  Garden 
Theatre,  having  succeeded  Mrs.  Webb  in  that  line  soon  after  this  period. 


58  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

Imagine,  then,  a  tall,  thin,  awkward  youth,  with  a  deportment 
utterly  unfit  for  a  stage-gentleman  of  that  starched  day,  with  a 
craving  appetite  for  Old  PhiJpot,  which  he  in  after  years  per- 
formed so  admirably,  compelled  to  submit  to  be  the  butt,  not 
only  of  Maria,  but  of  all  the  audience,  in  Beaufort.  Miss 
Farren,  accustomed  as  she  must  have  been  to  the  worst  sort  of 
acting  in  the  part,  probably  never  before  saw  a  total  novice 
represent  it ;  and  it  was  with  dismay  that  she  observed  him 
appear  in  the  green-room  dressed  in  a  scarlet  coat  (the  only  one 
provided  by  the  theatre  for  the  occasion)  which  had  obviously 
been  made  for  a  man  a  head  shorter  than  himself,  and  whose 
arms  were  in  proportion  with  his  stature,  for  the  sleeves  reached 
only  within  an  inch  of  the  wrists  of  the  present  unfortunate 
wearer ;  a  yellow  embroidered  waistcoat,  a  pair  of  black  satins 
scarcely  covering  the  knee,  and  showing  more  of  a  leg  guiltless 
of  calf  than  grace  or  fashion  demanded ;  his  hair  liberally 
powdered  and  tied  in  a  queue,  according  to  the  mode ;  a  chapeau 
bras  which  he  scarcely  knew  how  to  dispose  of,  and  which  now 
and  then  in  his  embarrassment  he  was  tempted  to  put  upon  his 
head.  Fancy  Mr.  Mathews  in  such  a  dress,  and  at  the  age  of 
seventeen,  playing  a  puling,  sentimental  drawl  of  a  lover  to  a 
woman  of  elegant,  easy  figure  and  accomplished  manners  !  When 
he  came  before  the  audience  there  was  a  general  shout,  as  if  a 
clown  in  a  pantomime  had  made  his  appearance,  succeeded  by  an 
almost  simultaneous  shriek  from  the  gallery,  and  then  the  fol- 
lowing delicate  inuendoes  : — "  Oh  !  see  the  mop-stick !" — "  Ah  ! 
Pat,  hould  yer  breath  hard,  or  y'll  puff  him  off  the  stage!" — 
"Oh!  and  it's  the  only  puff  I'll  give  him,  any  how  !"— "  Oh  I 
the  crethur !  what  a  slice  of  a  man !  Arrah  !  where's  your  other 
half?  Why  didn't  ye  bring  it  with  ye,  jewel?"  These  and 
such  like  pleasantries  greeted  his  first  appearance.  When  Maria 
came  on  the  stage  to  him,  he  being  directed  by  the  author  to 
look  thoughtful  and  embarrassed,  Miss  Farren  felt  obliged  (by 
the  same  authority)  to  imitate  the  performer's  peculiar  action, 
and  then  laugh  in  derision  of  it.  Hereupon  followed,  from  on 
high,  a  dreadful  noise,  that  might  be  supposed  to  resemble  the 
war-whoop  of  American  Indians,  in  token  of  their  approval  of 
the  imitation. 

At  length,  when  the  love-sick  Beaufort  made  his  exit,  he  was 
followed  by  a  universal  Whoo  ! ! !  After  this  had  subsided,  one 
of  his  tormentors  got  up  and  proposed  "  a  groan  for  the  long 
lobster, ^^  which  was  loudly  and  heartily  accorded  with  due  honours, 
as  far  as  the  gallery  was  concerned,  to  the  infinite  amusement  of 
the  rest  of  the  audience. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  59 

When  the  piece  was  over,  Miss  Farren  went  up  to  the  young 
actor  behind  the  scenes,  and  apologized  to  him  for  having  been 
an  unwilling  accessory  to  the  ridicule  his  unpractised  manner 
and  appearance  created,  owing  to  the  necessity  she  was  under  of 
obeying  the  author's  intention,  and  following  up  her  own  cha- 
racter in  the  farce.  She  kindly  expressed  her  concern  at  seeing 
a  young  gentleman  thrust  into  a  part  so  obviously  out  of  his  line, 
and  which  in  itself  was  so  contemptible  as  always  more  or  less 
to  draw  ridicule  upon  the  actor.  She  added,  that  his  inexperi- 
ence, and  the  disgraceful  dress  the  theatre  had  provided  for  him, 
had  of  course  rendered  the  result  still  more  distressing. 

These  delicate  alleviations  soothed,  but  did  not  heal  his 
feelings ;  he  begged,  almost  in  tears,  that  Mr.  Daly  would  on  a 
future  occasion  give  the  character  to  a  fitter  representative.  But 
managers,  as  well  as  fathers,  have  "  flinty  hearts,"  and,  moreover, 
Daly  could  find  no  one  else  to  take  such  a  part,  unless  he  paid  a 
long  arrear  of  salary.  Beaufort  was  not  worth  so  high  a  price, 
and  therefore  the  part  was  assigned  to  a  good-for-nothing  actor, 
as  he  was  deemed  who  had  last  been  ridiculed  in  the  character, 
and  whom  it  was  not  the  manager's  intention  to  pay  much 
longer.  The  best  apology  that  could  in  the  first  instance  be 
adduced  for  such  an  unprincipled  determination  was,  that  Mr. 
Daly,  in  kidnapping  a  young  man  of  respectable  family  and 
friends,  stage-struck  as  he  was,  believed  that  he  possessed  re- 
sources independent  of  the  paltry  salary  agreed  upon,  and  there- 
fore might  afford  to  go  on  without  pay  after  his  first  probation, 
and  from  his  own  confessed  dramatic  ardour,  not  feel  the  injustice, 
or  at  least  not  be  inclined  to  question  it.  This  at  first  he 
might  believe,  but  he  was  afterwards  quite  aware  of  the  priva- 
tions and  difficulties  his  dishonourable  treatment  occasioned  the 
poor  novice. 

I  have  heard  Mr.  Mathews  say,  that  he  has  gone  to  the 
theatre  at  night  without  having  tasted  anything  since  a  meagre 
breakfast,  determined  to  refuse  to  go  on  the  stage  unless  some 
portion  of  his  arrears  was  first  paid.  When,  however,  he  entered 
the  green-room,  his  spirits  were  so  cheered  by  the  attention  of  his 
brethren,  and  the  eclat  he  met  with  among  them  whenever  he  put 
forth  his  powers  of  amusement,  added  to  the  gaiety  of  the  scene 
altogether,  that  his  fainting  resolution  was  restored,  all  his  dis- 
content utterly  banished  for  the  time,  and  he  was  again  recon- 
ciled to  starvation — nay,  he  even  felt  afraid  of  offending  the  un- 
feeling manager,  and  returned  home  silent  upon  the  subject  of  his 
claims.     Then  came  in  succession  the  London  performers,  Miss 


60  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

Farren,  Kemble,  Incledon,  &c.,  some  of  whom  he  beheld  for  the 
first  time.  Fancy  a  young  enthusiast  witnessmg  and  becoming 
famihar  with  such  talent  in  the  profession  he  doted  upon.  Ht3 
devoured  their  every  look,  he  drank  up  every  tone,  he  was  enrapt 
with  their  excellence,  and  gloried  in  the  choice  he  had  made.  In 
short,  he  was  content  to  live  on  in  the  hope,  remote  as  it 
seemed,  of  being  one  day  received  by  an  audience  with  the  same 
enthusiasm  with  which  they  were  received.  Such  a  hope  was 
worth  all  present  suffering,  and  suifer  he  did  manfully. 

Throughout  his  correspondence  he  made  no  positive  admission, 
after  the  first  disappointment,  of  ill-usage  from  Daly — not  even 
to  his  most  confidential  friend  did  he  complain  of  any  subsequent 
injustice.  Not  a  hint  of  actual  pecuniary  distress  was  given  to 
Mr.  Litchfield  or  any  of  his  own  family,  nor  of  his  consequent 
privations.  When  he  alludes  to  stoppages  of  salary  from  occa- 
sional closing  of  the  theatre,  he  touches  so  lightly  upon  the  con- 
sequences to  himself,  that  his  friend  would  hardly  have  been 
justified  in  proff'ering  assistance,  which,  after  all,  his  pride,  and  a 
determined  constancy  in  suffering, would  have  rejected  as  uncalled- 
for  and  unnecessary. 

Among  some  detached  and  undated  memoranda  for  his  Life,  I 
have  found  the  following  account,  in  my  husband's  handwriting, 
of  an  accident  that  befel  him  about  this  period,  which  I  well  re- 
member his  relating  at  various  times. 


"  During  Miss  Farren's  performance  in  Ireland, '  The  Wonder' 
was  one  of  the  plays  announced.  From  one  of  those  irregulari- 
ties which  were  common,  the  performer  of  Lissardo  was  not  forth- 
coming, and  I  received  commands  from  my  superior  officer  to  get 
ready  in  the  part,  having  only  the  few  hours  from  rehearsal  time 
until  evening  to  study  it  in.  I  therefore  sallied  forth  to  walk 
and  learn,  preferring  the  open  air  and  exercise  to  in-door  fagging. 
I  crossed  Limerick  Bridge,  and  was  strolling  by  the  banks  of  the 
Shannon,  intent  upon  my  book,  when  I  met  a  brother  actor — as 
it  turned  out  for  me,  most  fortunately  met  him — occupied  like 
myself,  in  conning  over  his  lesson.  I  asked  him  to  read  some  of 
the  dialogue  to  me,  that  I  might  ascertain  how  much  I  had  got 
by  heart.  We  then  separated,  mutually  agreeing  to  assist  each 
other  in  this  way  in  another  half-hour  or  so.  In  the  mean  time, 
the  weather  being  sultry,  I  thought  I  would  bathe.  I  accor- 
dingly stripped  for  the  purpose,  and  having  frequently  paddled 
about  near  the  same  spot  with  impunity,  I  believed  there. was  no 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  ,         61 

part  of  the  river  where  I  could  get  out  of  my  depth,  for  be  it 
known  that  I  had  nothin*^  but  an  '  alacrity  in  sinking'  to  qualify 
me,  as  I  never  had  a  notion  of  swimming.  With  some  confi- 
dence in  the  solidity  of  the  bottom,  I  walked  and  splashed  until 
I  imagined  I  had  reached  the  deepest  part,  when  I  was  instan- 
taneously overwhelmed  with  the  horrors  of  drowning !  I  felt  the 
sensation  of  slippins:  down  a  precipice !  Cataracts,  thunder, 
lightning,  seemed  suddenly  to  environ  me !  The  agonizing  sen- 
sation of  finding  myself  irrecoverably  shut  out  in  an  instant  from 
all  human  aid !  a  thousand  racking  thoughts  of  my  distant 
home !  my  parents'  distress  !  succeeded  each  other  with  the  most 
frightful  rapidity  during  the  brief  space  of  time  that  I  was  im- 
potently  struggling  for  recovery.  But  oh  !  the  ruling  passion, 
strong  in  death — dare  I  confess  it  ?  My  mind  was  occupied  for 
a  brief  second  by  conjecture  who  could  act  Lissardo  that  night 
if  I  were  drowned  !  Then  the  worse  than  agony  of  renewed  hope, 
when  for  a  brief  second  I  beheld  the  fair  face  of  day,  the  sunny, 
cloudless  sky,  after  my  immersion  below,  for  I  rose  twice,  suffici- 
ently above  the  surface  to  see  distinctly  my  friendSeymour  seated  in 
the  meadow,  intent  upon  his  book.  I  made  an  impotent  attempt 
at  a  shout  to  him.  I  hoped  I  had  articulated,  but  it  must  have 
been  a  faint  scream.  Alas !  he  saw  me  not.  Again  I  sank  ! 
and  can  comprehend  the  '  catching  at  a  straw,'  for  my  sensa- 
tions, which  are  now  vividly  before  me,  were  those  of  perishing 
in  an  unfinished  building,  where  the  beams  of  the  floor  were 
above  my  head.  I  struggled  to  grasp  them,  with  a  wild  and 
frantic  action,  with  my  hands  above  my  head !  Drowning  has 
been  variously  described,  and  is  generally  supposed  to  be  a  very 
easy  death.  I  have  not  experienced  any  other  manner  of  dying 
certainl}'-,  but  I  cannot  conceive  any  mode  more  painful.  The 
tremendous  noise  of  the  rushing  waters  in  the  ears,  the  frightful 
flashing  of  light,  as  if  surrounded  by  sparks  from  fireworks,  the 
sense  of  suffocation,  and  oh  !  who  can  describe  the  sensations  I 
briefly  felt  upon  my  second  bound  from  the  bed  of  the  river  to 
the  surface  !  Again  I  attempted  a  feeble  cry  !  Again  I  saw  my 
studious  companion,  and  again  1  had  the  conviction  that  I  was 
unseen  !  Every  hope  now  fled,  and  I  gradually  lost  all  sensation 
except  that  of  struggling  to  reach  the  beams  that  floated  in  my 
imagination.  To  the  last,  I  was  under  the  impression  that  by 
desperate  efforts  I  might  grasp  this  apparent  substance,  and  so 
save  myself.  This  is  all  1  am  capable  of  relating  from  my  own 
knowledge,  for  I  was  near  death,  most  decidedly,  before  I  was 
providentially  rescued. 


62  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

"  It  appeared  from  the  evidence  of  my  friend,  that  the  '  beam 
in  my  eye'  was  my  latest  vision,  for  he  had  jumped  into  the 
river  with  his  clothes  on,  to  save  me.  He  was  an  expert 
swimmer,  and  made  for  the  spot  where  he  had  last  seen  me  rise, 
when  in  almost  despair  of  rescuing,  or  even  finding  me,  he  felt 
his  legs  suddenly  seized  with  violence,  and  he  was  dragged  by 
my  dying  struggles,  feeble  as  they  were,  to  the  bottom.  He 
was  a  most  accomplished  swimmer  and  diver,  or  I  should  never 
have  related  the  tale.  He  contrived  to  get  me  on  shore !  I 
have  no  recollection  of  anything  that  occurred  from  my  third 
sinking  until  I  saw  a  heterogeneous  collection  of  human  figures 
and  humorous  countenances  about  me ;  and  was  almost  suffo- 
cated afresh  with  the  aroma  of  '  mountain  dew.'  I  was  carried, 
much  in  the  state  in  which  I  am  to  believe  I  came  into  the 
world,  by  two  soldiers,  under  the  command  of  my  preserver 
Seymour,  to  the  first  public-house  that  presented  itself;  and 
there  they  rubbed  me  down,  and  rubbed  me  in  all  directions ; 
and  I  was  recovered  by  the  means  prescribed  by  the  humane 
society  —  of  whisky  dealers.  Curiosity  brought  numbers  to 
see  what  was  on  table ;  and  the  jokes  that  were  passed  upon  the 
occasion  were  something  like  the  following : — 

"  '  Let's  luk  at  the  face  of  him.  Rub  away,  ye  devils !  I've 
seen  the  eyes  of  him  opening.  Don't  trust  the  potteen  near  the 
mouth  of  the  cratur,  or  he'll  leave  you  none  for  the  rubbin'. 
Pour  a  drop  down  to  rouse  the  heart  of  him.  Niver  fear  ! — keep 
the  sowl  inside  the  body  of  him,  and  he's  safe !  How  did  he  get 
in  the  sea  itself?' — '  Sea!  sure,  it's  the  Shannon.  There's  no 
sea  there,  you  tief  o'  the  world.  Did  he  jump  in  ?' — '  Sure,  he 
went  a  svyimming,  and  had  never  learnt  ?' — '  He  had  one  lesson 
only,  I  heard,  and  that  was  to  teach  him  how  to  sink.' — '  By 
my  sowl,  then,  he  was  an  apt  scholar.  What  name's  upon 
him  ?  Has  he  a  woman  itself  that  owns  him  ?  Sure,  I  heard 
the  Englisher  red-coat  say,  he  was  one  of  Daly's  divarters.^ 

"  The  most  zealous  attendants  of  the  Humane  Society,  how- 
ever, might  have  here  taken  a  lesson  in  adroitness  in  restoring 
animation.  Suffice  it  to  say,  their  means  were  eff'ectual,  and  I 
acted  Lissardo  with  the  accomplished  Farren  that  night." 


I 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  63 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Mr.  Mathews  and  Miss  Strong — His  engagement  to  her,  and  his  father's  letter 
to  him  on  the  subject — His  marriage  with  Miss  Strong — Increasing  ambi- 

,  tion — Application  to  Tate  Wilkinson,  the  York  Patentee — Mr.  Mathews's 
visit  to  his  family  in  London — His  reception — Mr.  Mathews's  engagement 
with  Tate  Wilkinson — His  first  interview — His  debut — His  apparent  failure 
and  discouragement. 

The  next  three  years  of  Mr.  Mathews'  life  presented  nothing 
worthy  of  special  notice.  His  attention  to  his  professional  duties 
was  unremitting,  and  he  gradually  advanced  in  the  favour  of  the 
public  and  of  those  London  "  stars"  who  visited  the  Dublin  and 
Swansea  theatres,  at  the  latter  of  which  the  young  actor  pro- 
cured a  more  profitable  engagement  in  the  year  1795. 

In  the  summer  of  1797  Mr.  Mathews  met,  at  the  house  of  a 
mutual  friend,  a  young  lady  about  his  own  age,  of  very  prepos- 
sessing manners  and  of  superior  mind.  It  was  said  that  the 
"  gods  had  made  her  poetical,"  and  that  she  was  otherwise  a 
person  of  elegant  attainments.  These  young  people  became  very 
intimate ;  and,  though  friendship  in  such  cases  is  not  believed  in 
by  people  of  experience,  I  have  been  assured  by  both  of  the 
parties  in  question,  that  their  acquaintance  began  and  continued 
upon  that  basis  alone,  for  some  time.  One  day,  however,  the 
young  man,  in  a  tete-h-tete  with  the  interesting  orphan  (for  such 
she  was),  in  a  pensive  mood,  was  drawn  into  a  hearing  of  her 
history.  She  was  the  daughter  of  a  physician.  Dr.  Strong,  of 
Exeter,  who,  by  a  concurrence  of  wayward  events,  became  em- 
barrassed, and  died  almost  penniless,  leaving  his  only  child  upon 
the  compassion  of  friends.  She,  however,  was  too  proud  to  lead 
a  life  of  dependence,  and  settled  herself  in  a  school,  instructing  a 
limited  number  of  young  ladies  from  the  stores  acquired  by  her 
education,  laid  up  by  her  parents  as  resources  for  her  own  hap- 
piness in  the  position  in  society  she  was  originally  intended  to 
take.  With  this  best  dowry  that  a  child  can  boast  of,  she  was 
enabled  to  obtain  some  of  the  comforts  which  it  was  at  first 
hoped  she  might  enjoy,  without  applying  her  mental  gains  for 


64  THE  LIFE  AND   COEKESPONDENCE  OF 

their  purchase;  and  at  this  period  she  was  labouring  in  her  vo- 
cation, and  highly  esteemed  by  all  who  knew  her.  The  story 
of  her  helpless  youth  and  her  honourable  struggles,  which  allowed 
her  a  bare  support,  made  an  impression  upon  the  somewhat  ro- 
mantic youth.  He  was  not  in  any  degree  heart-touched ;  but 
pity  is  confessedly  akin  to  love,  if  not  nearly  related.  He  had 
merely  called  upon  Miss  Strong  for  an  hour's  lounge  on  a  day 
of  non-rehearsal,  without  more  intention  or  expectation  than 
civilit}'-  and  kindness  created ;  but,  after  an  hour's  stay,  he  left 
her  presence  as  her  affianced  husband  !  As  he  walked  towards 
his  lodging,  he  asked  himself  what  could  have  induced  the 
offer  he  had  made  to  this  amiable  girl?  —  and  he  found  no 
answer  in  his  heart.  He  was  neither  "in  love,"  nor  "pleased 
with  ruin  ;"  and  yet  he  had  plunged  into  the  one  without  any 
of  the  sweet  inducements  of  the  other !  Well,  what  was  done 
could  not  be  undone.  He  had  listened  to  her  woes,  and  ad- 
mired her  character ;  and,  in  the  enthusiasm  of  youth  and  the 
moment,  he  had  offered  to  protect  the  young  creature  against 
further  toil  and  care.  He  had  settled  to  marry  a  person  without 
sixpence,  and  undertaken  to  provide  for  her  upon  the  splendid 
expectancy  of — twelve  shillings  per  week  !  and  this  without  what 
is  called  being  in  love ! 

That  his  intended  wife  was  at  that  period  deeply  attached  to 
him,  every  moment  of  her  after-life  indisputably  evinced  ;  and  it 
is  no  mean  praise  of  her  husband,  under  the  circumstances  of 
their  union,  that  he  not  only  never  divulged  the  delicate  secret 
of  his  having  inconsiderately  and  inadvertently  made  her  the 
offer  of  his  hand,  but  throughout  her  married  life  he  treated  her 
with  every  kindness  and  attention.  Nor  do  I  believe  that,  ex- 
cept to  his  second  wife  (whom  he  really  loved),  he  ever  com- 
mitted the  truth  of  his  dispassionate  feelings  towards  his  devoted 
Eliza. 

It  will  be  seen,  b}'-  the  following  sensible  letter  from  his  ex- 
cellent father,  that  the  bridegroom  elect  had  written  for  that 
permission,  which  he  felt  to  be  a  necessary  form  and  preliminary 
to  a  determined  act. 

To  Mr.  Charles  Mathetos. 

London,  Sept.  11th,  1797. 
Deae  Charles, — I  received  yours  of  the  5th  instant,  which  brought 
strange  news  unto  my  ears.     You  introduce  a  subject  in  yoMV  letter 
which  rather  surprised  me,  although  you  seem  to  think  it  would  give 
me  pleasure. 

It  will  always  give  me  pleasure  to  hear  that  you  are  doing  well ;  but 


CHAELES  MATHEWS.  65 

I  cannot  think  that  even  success  in  your  present  pursuit  is  doing  well ; 
as  I  am  convinced  it  will  eventually  turn  out  for  evil,  independently  of 
the  disgrace  that  attaches  to  your  character  while  you  continue  in  so 
disgraceful  an  employ.  You  say  that,  with  my  concurrence  and  appro- 
bation, you  are  going  to  be  married ;  and  so  you  would,  I  suppose, 
whether  I  approved  of  it  or  not.  You  say  that  the  lady  has  been 
introduced  to  me  in  a  distant  way — distant,  indeed  !  I  suppose  with 
an  express  design  to  give  me  some  intimation  of  her  mental  qualifi- 
cation, and  to  prove  that  her  mind  as  well  as  her  name  was  Strong,  you 
have  presented  me  with  the  figurability  of  her  mind,  and  left  me  to 
guess  at  that  of  her  body,  which  I  suppose  to  be  but  small  of  stature 
by  your  own  description  of  her,  when  you  say,  "  But  the  dear  little 
girl,"  &c.  But  I  am  satisfied  though  she  be  little,  if  that  little  be  but 
good. 

You  have  given  me  no  account  of  her  age,  situation,  or  manner  of 
life,  or  by  what  means  she  has  hitherto  subsisted.  How  can  I  form  a 
just  decision  in  my  mind,  so  as  to  give  you  advice,  or  grant  my  con- 
currence in  an  affair  of  such  great  importance  as  a  cast  for  the  life  of 
one  of  the  parties,  without  any  premises  to  decide  on?  Has  Miss 
Strong  any  probability,  either  by  fortune  or  talents,  of  maintaining  you  ? 
If  she  has  not,  what  must  be  her  conception  of  your  being  able  to 
maintain  her  ?  Is  your  present  income  able  to  do  it  ?  or,  have  you  any 
better  prospects  in  life,  to  enable  you  to  support  her  with  honour  and 
decency  in  future?  I  hate  all  Smithfield  bargains  in  matrimonial 
contracts,  and  always  esteem  love-matches  as  the  best  when  entered 
into  with  "  real  discretion ;"  but  "  wisdom  ought  to  dwell  with  pru- 
dence." If  Miss  Strong  has  no  better  prospect  than  to  live  and  starve 
with  you  upon  your  present  income,  it  plainly  proves  to  me  that  her 
passion  for  your  person,  or  the  endowments  of  your  mind,  is  very  far 
stronger  than  the  strength  of  her  mind,  and  has  overpowered  her 
understanding  in  the  present  instance ;  and  your  love  to  her  person, 
and  particularly  to  her  mental  endowments,  has  shot  beyond  the  mark, 
and  will  rather  degenerate  into  a  cruelty  towards  her,  if  you  are  not 
capable  at  present,  or  in  prospect,  of  making  provision  for  her  future 
comfort. 

The  essential  ingredient  in  the  marriage  state  to  render  the  parties 
happy  is  mutual  affection ;  where  that  is  wanting,  all  is  discord ;  but 
that,  abstractedly  considered,  will  not  feed  the  body,  clothe  the  back, 
or  provide  for  the  exigencies  of  an  increasing  family.  Therefore,  look 
before  you  leap,  lest  you  leap  into  ruin,  and  involve  the  object  of  your 
delight  in  ruin  with  you,  which  I  should  be  sorry  to  be  the  case  with 
dear  Miss  Strong,  whom  I  esteem,  although  a  stranger  to  her,  because 
you  seem  to  esteem  her  upon  valuable  grounds. 

I  do  not  know  enough  of  Miss  Strong  to  put  my  negative  to  your 
union  with  her,  whether  it  would  be  decisive  or  not ;  or  to  give  my 
consent,  from  any  conviction  that  she  possesses  known  virtues  and 
talents  to  qualify  her  to  make  you  a  good,  industrious,  or  an  economical 
wife.    Therefore  both  myself  and  your  mother  are  at  a  loss  to  know 

r 


6$  THE  LIFj:  AND  COERESPONDENCE  OF 

how  to  act  consistently  with  our  duty  and  love  to  you,  in  regard  to  a 
question  of  such  importance,  and  to  give  our  decision  upon  a  case  which 
we  have  only  a  prejudiced  witness  to  testify  of  the  party  who  is  the 
beloved  object  of  his  wishes.  I  must  own  frankly,  that  had  Miss 
Strong  been  one  of  your  company,  I  should  have  shuddered  at  the  idea 
of  your  union  with  such  a  person  ;  but,  as  to  all  that  appears  con- 
cerning Miss  Strong,  your  mother  agrees  with  me  that,  upon  mature 
deliberation  between  you,  as  your  love  is  reciprocal,  if  you  care  for  each 
other's  welfare,  enter  int6  this  union,  so  as  not  to  involve  yourselves  in 
disgrace,  and  us  in  trouble ;  you,  being  of  age  to  judge  for  yourselves, 
have  our  consent;  and  God  grant  you  his  blessing,  and  much  real 
happiness !  But,  let  me  remind  you  both,  that,  while  I  wish  God's 
blessing  on  you  in  the  rich  provision  of  his  hand,  and  social  happiness 
with  each  other,  you  cannot  be  really  or  eventually  happy  without  you 
are  found  walking  in  his  fear,  and  devoted  to  his  service ;  and  this,  I 
think,  my  dear  Charles,  you  are  far  from  doing  in  your  present 
situation.  Your  mother,  sister,  brother,  and  Mrs.  Maitland,  whom  I 
saw  yesterday,  with  all  your  other  friends,  &c.,  join  in  best  wishes  to 
you  and  Miss  Strong. 

I  am,  dear  Charles,  yours  affectionately,    James  Mathews. 

P.S. — Pray  write  to  me  soon  about  all  particulars.  William  wrote 
to  you  last  week. 

In  eight  days  after  the  date  of  the  foregoing  letter,  the  extract 
from  the  parish  register  now  before  me  declares,  that  "  Charles 
Mathews  and  Eliza  Kirkham  Strong  were  married  by  '  bans'  on 
the  19th  day  of  September,  in  the  year  one  thousand  seven  hun- 
dred and  ninety-seven,  in  the  presence  of  John  Wynne  and  Evan 
Francis,  at  Swansea;"  and  it  may  be  hoped  that  the  young 
husband  found  the  society  of  his  bride  so  sufficient,  as  to  super- 
sede for  several  months  any  communion  of  soul  with  distant 
friends ;  for,  till  the  time  that  his  ambition  stirred  him  to  re- 
move to  "  new  climes,"  all  correspondence  appears  to  have  ceased 
with  his  friend  Mr.  Litchfield. 

Human  desires  are  ever  onward, 

"  Man  never  is,  but  always  to  he  blessed." 

Mr.  Mathews,  it  is  true,  was  possessed  of  all  the  fame  that  a 
Welch  circuit  had  to  bestow  upon  a  favourite  comedian,  and 
all  that  esteem  in  private  which  attends  upon  an  honest  man 
in  every  part  of  the  world.  But  he  had  married,  and  his  dowser- 
less  wife  was  a  daily  though  "  sweet  remembrancer"  that  some 
addition  to  his  income  was  urgently  necessary  to  make  up  the 
sum  of  content  and  comfort.  His  salary  did  not  exceed  twelve 
shillings  per  week  !  but  then  he  had  benefits,  great  ones  too, 
for  the  Lilliputian  scheme  he  was  engaged  in ;    but  all,  alas ! 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  67 

incompetent  to  that  worldly  ease  which  his  active  exertions  and 
irreproachable  habits  seemed  to  deserve. 

He  had  heard  that  a  Mr.  Emery,  the  principal  comedian  of 
the  York  company  for  some  years  past,  was  on  the  point  of  de- 
parture to  London,  and  he  immediately  applied  for  his  situation 
in  a  letter  to  Tate  Wilkinson,  which  promptly  produced  the  fol- 
lowing characteristic  reply  from  that  eccentric  veteran. 

Hull,  Januaiy  3rd,  1798. 

SiE, — Mr.  Emery  does  not  leave  me  until  the  end  of  October.  Now 
you  are  an  entire  stranger  to  me,  therefore  it  would  be  madness  to 
engage  a  young  man,  with  a  double-loaded  company  (as  I  really  at 
present  have),  of  whose  abilities  I  am  entirely  ignorant.  On  the  other 
hand,  it  would  be  madness  for  you  next  summer  to  come  to  Leeds  on 
trial,  at  so  heavy  an  expense.  If  you  were  near  me,  it  would  be  prac- 
ticable. What  I  want  as  Sneak,  Oatland,  Tom,  &c.,  must  be  of  great 
promise.     Do  you  sing  ?  for  that  is  a  great  help  in  Hodge,  &c. 

I  am,  sir,  yours,  &c.        Tate  Wilkinson. 

Mr.  Mathews,  Theatre,  Carmarthen. 

After  Mr.  Mathews  had  determined  to  take  his  leave  of  his 
Welsh  friends  (and  but  that  "  honour  pricked  him  on,"  it  would 
have  been,  nay,  was  a  very  painful  effort),  he  was  naturally 
desirous,  between  the  parting  from  one  dramatic  sovereign  and 
swearing  allegiance  to  another,  to  employ  the  interval  in  a  visit 
to  his  family ;  to  whom  also  he  was  anxious  to  present  his 
amiable  and  clever  wife.  The  young  couple,  therefore,  reached 
the  paternal  home — once  so  gloomy  to  Mr.  Mathews — with 
feelings  on  his  part  which  left  no  room  for  any  other  remem- 
brance than  the  real  affection  he  retained  for  his  relations; 
while  his  father  and  mother,  with  as  much  good  taste  as  good- 
ness of  heart,  received  their  disobedient  son  in  the  true  spirit  of 
Christian  forgiveness.  It  might  have  been  supposed  by  the  total 
oblivion  of  the  past,  which  seemed  to  have  been  tacitly  deter- 
mined on,  that  he  had  been  invited  home  by  one  of  those  ad- 
vertisements in  which  disconsolate  parents  promise,  on  the  re- 
turn of  the  fugitive,  that  no  questions  shall  be  asked  ;  or,  like 
one  I  once  read  in  a  country  paper,  which  held  out  to  a  runaway 
spoiled  boy  the  inducement,  from  his  fond  mother,  that  "  if 
Richard  would  come  back  again,  he  should  be  allowed  to  sweeten 
his  own  tea,  and  not  be  put  upon  by  his  younger  sister  any 
longer." 

Welcomed  to  London  once  more  by  his  affectionate  family^ 
he  had  also  the  happiness  of  enjoying  the  society  of  his  youthful 
friends — his  earliest  and  dearest,  Mr.  John  Litchfield,  his  first 

r2 


"68  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

playmate  in  public,  as  well  as  in  private.  This  gentleman's 
judgment  he  considered  almost  infallible  ;  and  he  gave  up  to  him 
his  whole  budget  of  mimic  acquirements,  which  drew  forth  praise, 
and  augury  of  future  excellence,  from  the  evidences  given  of  pre- 
sent improvement.  This  opinion  was  a  support  to  him  in  sub- 
sequent difficulties  and  drawbacks  in  his  profession,  and  pointed 
out  to  him  the  road  to  future  fame.  Mr.  Litchfield  had  also, 
like  himself,  married  a  young  lady  of  great  talents  and  engaging 
jnanners.* 

With  these  friends  the  enthusiastic  young  couple  visited  all 
the  theatres  ;  and  their  pious  parents  "  asked  no  questions." 
His  father  saw  that  his  son  was  un vitiated  by  the  walk  he  had 
chosen.  He  found  him  respected  by  all  his  former  friends ;  and 
those  of  his  new  line,  who  called  at  the  house,  were  evidently 
gentlemen,  though  actors ;  and,  finding  in  his  son  every  good 
quality  unimpaired  (except  that  of  bookselling),  he  smiled  with 
approbation  upon  him,  perfectly  satisfied  "  that  nothing  ill  could 
dwell  in  such  a  temple."  His  wife,  too,  was  a  favourite  with 
them,  for  they  soon  discovered  a  religious  bent  in  her  ;  and  more- 
over rejoiced  that,  however  poor,  she  had  not  been  selected  from 
that  dreaded  profession  in  which  their  son  had  enrolled  him- 
self; a  man  might  escape  its  contamination — a  woman  could 
not ;  so  they  had  been  told,  and  so  they  believed. 

During  this  visit  the  dear  kind  people  carefully  excluded  their 
more  serious  visitors,  and  no  family  could  be  happier.  Mr. 
Mathews  would  even  listen  to  "  Charles's"  songs  and  mimicry 
with  complacency,  nay,  even  with  enjoyment ;  and  Mrs. 
Mathews  would  give  loose  to  a  merriment  she  had  before  no 
idea  she  was  capable  of  feeling.  In  short,  when  the  time  for 
separation  arrived,  it  was  as  painful,  though  less  bitter,  to  all 
parties,  as  it  had  been  when,  on  the  former  occasion,  the  youth 
had  resisted  a  father's  will,  and  "rushed  upon  his  fate." 

The  following  letter  (a  little  out  of  place  here)  had  fixed  his 
engagement  with  Tate  Wilkinson ;  and,  at  the  appointed  time, 
the  young  couple  took  their  departure  for  Yorkshire. 

May  20th,  1798. 

SiE, — Don't  let  either  of  us  place  too  great  a  reliance.  I  will  engage 
you  at  11.  per  week,  until  the  first  Saturday  in  June,  1799.  But,  to 
promise  an  increase  of  salary,  and  a  certain  line  of  business,  where  I 

*  Mrs.  Litchfield  will  be  remembered  as  celebrated  both  in  tragedy  and 
comedy.  She  was  some  years  a  favourite  and  first-rate  actress  at  Covent 
(Jarden,  until  her  premature  retirement  from  the  profession  she  so  ornamented, 
.and  which  has  since  much  missed  her. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  69-' 

have  much  at  stake,  would  not  be  prudent  on  my  part  to  give.  There- 
fore, as  to  an  additional  salary,  or  a  cast  of  parts — unseen,  unknown — 
I  cannot  think  of  giving  any  such  promise,  as  I  must  cast  the  parts  as 
I  judge.  A  Mr.  Penson  is  going  as  well  as  Mr.  Emery,  and  Mr. 
Penson  possesses  a  very  extensive  comedy  cast;  so  I  must,  with  such, 
an  opening,  try  for  the  best.  You  may  have  great  talents — moderate, 
or  indifferent — all  which  must  be  judged  by  the  manager  and  the 
public.  Therefore,  all  the  favour  I  have  to  ask  is,  whether  you  de- 
termine on  being  at  York  August  the  18th,  Don't  neglect  your 
interest ;  but  don't  let  me  rely  on  your  coming,  and  then  not  make 
your  appearance :  may  be  disagreeable  not  only  at  the  time,  but  as  to 
other  engagements.  Mr.  Penson  leaves  me  in  August. 
I  am.  Sir,  wishing  you  every  success,  yours,  &c. 

Tate  Wilkinson. 

If  you  possess  near  the  merit  you  lead  me  to  expect,  you  must  not 
fear  a  good  engagement  here,  there,  or  anywhere.  You  are  sure  I 
wish  you  to  please.  No  managers  part  with  favourite  performers,  but 
he  must  wish  the  new  ones  to  succeed. 

Me.  Mathews,  Jun. 

Mb.  Mathews,  Bookseller, 
No.  18,  Strand, 

London. 

With  new  ardour,  animated  and  strengthened  by  his  present 
hopes,  and  reliances  justified  in  some  measure  by  the  success  of 
the  last  two  years,  this  nevertheless  undisciplined  recruit  entered 
somewhat  rashly  the  front  rank  of  the  greatest  dramatic  general 
of  England's  provinces — the  pupil  of  Eoote — the  personal  friend 
of  Garrick — and  himself  once  a  celebrated  London  actor.  To 
be  allowed  admission  was  something ;  but  to  be  pronounced, 
when  there,  able  and  worthy  to  maintain  a  prominent  position 
in  Tate  Wilkinson's  company  was,  all  knew,  a  rapid  step  to 
advancement  and  promotion  to  the  very  summit  of  an  actor's 
ambition ;  a  London  engagement  making  always  the  bright 
perspective  in  the  view  of  a  York  favourite.  That  theatre  was, 
in  fact,  considered  a  nursery  and  preparatory  school  for  metro- 
politan performers  at  this  period ;  and  was,  as  it  gave  frequent 
proof,  the  very  best  (Bath  excepted)  that  could  be  desired  for, 
the  development  of  incipient  genius,  and  the  maturity  of  rising 
talent.* 

*  The  York  and  Bath  theatres  claim  the  thanks  of  the  play-loving  public 
for  having  prepared  and  supplied  some  of  the  best  performers  that  ever  trod 
the  Loudon  boards.  In  justification  of  this  assertion  I  need  only  mention,, 
with  reference  to  York,  out  of  many,  the  names  of  Siddons,  Jordan,  Kemble, 
Cooke,  Emery,  and  Fawcett,  to  show  that  it  has  '•  done  the  state  some 
service." 


70  THE  LIFK  AND  COERESPONDENCE  OF 

Early  in  August  the  young  and  sanguine  comedian  reached 
Pontefract,  where  the  York  company  were  "  located"  for  a  time, 
carrying  with  him  all  his  worldly  possessions — namely,  a  small 
trunk  containing  his  scanty  wardrobe,  about  eight  or  ten  comical 
wigs  of  various  pretensions — a  wife,  and  a  stock  of  yet  unsub- 
dued animal  spirits,  promising  better  support  to  the  young 
couple  than  the  vast  salary  of  twenty  shillings  per  week — 
the  extent  of  his  expectations,  even  with  the  most  brilliant 
success.  But  his  partner  loved  him,  and  saw  only  the  cheerful 
side  of  the  question  ;  and  feeling  how  much  he  deserved,  she 
could  not  doubt  that  his  merits  would  be  justly  appreciated. 
Mrs.  Mathews,  however,  had  a  mental  reserve  when  she  ex- 
pressed her  conviction  that  they  would  "do  very  well"  upon 
her  husband's  income.  She  was  a  candidate  for  literary  gains, 
and  relied  upon  her  power  to  make  many  additions  to  their 
comforts  by  the  sweet  labour  of  her  pen  ;  but  she  was  timid, 
and  would  not  whisper  her  plans  until  they  were  ripe  for  exe- 
cution; so  that  her  speculations  were  confined  to  her  own 
bosom,  and  her  husband  was  kept  in  ignorance  of  the  mine  of 
wealth  in  store  for  him  when  he  least  expected  it. 

In  the  mean  time  it  was  necessary,  as  his  first  duty,  to  present 
himself  to  his  future  master  :  accordingly,  having  spruced  him- 
self up  in  his  other  suit,  he  proceeded  with  a  palpitating  heart 
to  the  manager's  house.  After  sending  up  his  name,  he  was 
desired  by  the  servant  to  walk  up  stairs,  and  in  the  shortest 
time  possible  found  himself  alone  upon  the  first  landing-place, 
with  a  choice  of  two  doors.  At  a  venture  he  tapped  gently  at 
the  first,  and  he  was  immediately  satisfied  that  it  was  the  right 
one,  for  a  drear  yet  authoritative  voice  bawled  out,  "  Come  in  !" 
This  command  was  reiterated  with  an  increased  force  before  the 
palpitating  heart  of  the  person  for  whom  it  was  meant  would 
permit  him  to  turn  the  lock.  He  thought  of  his  interview 
with  Macklin  the  terrible,  and  almost  trembled  as  he  entered. 
He  had  in  some  measure  been  prepared  for  something  extra- 
ordinary in  Tate's  manner,  by  his  own  letters,  and  had  en- 
deavoured to  make  himself  familiar  with  his  character,  by  a  careful 
perusal  of  "The  Wandering  Patentee,"  as  this  eccentric  i)erson 
styled  himself  in  that  entertaining  work.  The  awe,  however, 
felt  by  the  aspirant  at  the  ideal  of  his  first  meeting  with  this 
celebrated  man,  and  henceforth  master  of  his  fate,  was  in  some 
measure  relieved,  if  not  removed,  by  his  first  glimpse  of  the 
figure  before  him,  and  its  undignified  occupation ;  neither  of 
which  realized  any  of  Mr.  Mathews's  anticipations  of  the  dignity 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  71 

of  the  old-school  gentleman,  or  his  preconceived  notions  of  his 
consequence  and  superiority,  and  something  approaching  to 
self-possession  was  restored  to  him. 

"  Come  in  !"  The  young  man  obeyed.  Tate  was  shuffling 
about  the  room  with  a  small  ivory-handled  brush  in  one  hand, 
and  a  silver  buckle  in  the  other,  in  pretended  industry,  whistling 
during  his  employment  after  the  fashion  of  a  groom  while 
currying  and  rubbing  down  a  horse.*  It  was  a  minute  at  least 
before  Tate  took  the  least  notice  of  the  new-comer,  who  in  the 
short  interval  had  opportunity  to  observe  the  ludicrous  effect  of 
Tate's  appearance,  which  was  indeed  irresistibly  droll.  He  was 
still  in  his  morning's  dishabille,  which  did  not  consist  of  the 
usual  undress  of  men  of  his  standing,  who  generally  indulged  in 
a  copious  rohe  de  chamhre,  easy  slippers,  and  the  Dil worth  cap, 
to  relieve  the  formality  and  confinement  of  a  wig.  Tate's  early 
dress  did  not  differ  from  the  later  one  in  which  he  appeared 
after  the  busy  part  of  his  day  was  finished.  But  "  he  wore  his 
rue  with  a  difference,"  that  is,  at  this  period,  his  coat  collar  was 
thrown  back  upon  his  shoulders,  and  his  Brown  George  (a  wig, 
so  called  in  compliment,  I  believe,  to  King  George  the  Third, 
who  set  the  fashion)  on  one  side,  exposing  the  ear  on  the  other, 
and  cocked  up  behind  so  as  to  leave  the  bare  nape  of  his  neck 
open  to  observation.  His  hat  was  put  on  side  foremost,  and  as 
forward  and  awry  as  his  wig.  Both  were  perked  on  his  head  very 
insecurely,  as  it  seemed  to  the  observer.  He  presented  alto- 
gether what  might  be  called  an  uncomfortable  appearance,  and 
which  to  those  who  were  in  the  habit  of  seeing  him  at  other 
times,  might  be  supposed  to  be  contrived  as  a  striking  contrast 
to  his  precise  and  smug  effect  after  he  had  made  his  toilette, 
when  he  was  particularly  neat. 

When  the  young  actor  entered,  he  caught  the  back  view  of 
this  strange  figure,  which  made  no  movement  either  of  courtesy 
or  curiosity.  Mr.  Mathews,  after  an  unsuccessful  cough,  and  a 
few  significant  hems,  which  seemed  to  solicit  welcome  and  atten- 
tion, ventured  at  last  upon  an  audible  "  Good  morning,  sir." 
This  had  its  effect,  and  the  following  colloquy  ensued.  "  Good 
morning,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Mathews. — "  Oh  !  good  morning,  Mr. 
Meadoii's,'^  replied  Tate,  very  doggedly. — "My  name  is  Mathews, 

*  It  appeared  that  it  was  his  custom  daily  to  polish  his  own  buckles,  for  as 
these  particular  buckles  (small  silver  shoe-buckles)  were  especial  favourites, 
from  having  been  the  gift  of  his  friend  the  immortal  Garrick,  and  were  worn 
constantly  in  his  dress  shoes,  he  was  chary  of  allowing  others  the  privilege  of 
touching  them  ;  in  fact,  he  never  trusted  them  out  of  his  own  hands. 


72  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

sir." — "  Ay,  I  know,"  wheeling  suddenly  round,  and  looking  at, 
him  for  the  first  time  with  scrutinizing  earnestness  from  head  to 
foot.  Winking  his  eyes  and  lifting  his  brows  rapidly  up  and 
down,  a  habit  with  him  when  not  pleased,  he  uttered  a  long- 
drawn  "U — gh!"  and  exclaimed,  "What  a  Maypole! — Sir, 
you're  too  tall  for  low  comedy." — "I'm  sorry,  sir,"  said  the 
poor  disconcerted  youth.  But  Tate  did  not  seem  to  hear  him, 
for,  dropping  his  eyes  and  resuming  the  brushing  of  his  buckles, 
he  continued,  as  if  in  soliloquy :  "  But  I  don't  know  why  a  tall 
man  shouldn't  be  a  very  comical  fellow."  Then  again  turning 
sharply  for  a  reinvestigation  of  the  slender  figure  before  him,  he 
added,  with  gathering  discontent,  "  You're  too  thin,  sir,  for 
anything  but  the  Apothecary  in  '  Romeo  and  Juliet ;'  and  you 
would  want  stuffing  for  that." — "  I  am  very  sorry,  sir,"  rejoined 
the  mortified  actor,  who  was  immediately  interrupted  by  the 
growing  distaste  and  manifest  ill  humour  of  the  disappointed 
manager. 

"  What's  the  use  of  being  sorry  ?  You  speak  too  quick.'* 
The  accused  anxiously  assured  him  that  he  would  endeavour  to 
mend  that  habit.  "  What,"  said  Tate,  snappishly,  "  by  speaking 
quicker,  I  suppose."  Then,  looking  at  Mr.  Mathews,  he,  as  if 
again  in  soliloquy,  added,  "  I  never  saw  anybody  so  thin  to  be 
alive ! !  Why,  sir,  one  hiss  would  blow  you  off  the  stage." 
This  remark  sounding  more  like  good  humour  than  anything  he 
had  uttered,  the  comedian  ventured,  with  a  faint  smile,  to 
observe  that  he  hoped  he  should  not  get  that  one — when  Tate, 
with  aff'ected  or  real  anger,  replied,  "  You'll  get  a  great  many, 
sir.  Why,  sir,  I've  been  hissed — the  great  Mr.  Garrick  has 
been  hissed;  it's  not  very  modest  in  you  to  expect  to  escape, 
Mr.  Mountain." — "  Mathews,  sir,"  interposed  the  miscalled. — ^ 

"  Well,  Matthew  Mountain:'—''  No,  sir "— "  Have  you  a 

quick  study,  Mr.  Maddox  ?"  asked  Tate,  interrupting  him  once 
more.  Mathews  gave  up  the  ineffectual  attempt  to  preserve  his 
proper  name,  and  replied  at  once  to  the  last  question,  "  I  hope 
so,  sir." — "  Why"  (in  a  voice  of  thunder),  "  arn't  you  sure  ?'* 
— "  Ye-e-es,  sir,"  asserted  his  terrified  and  harassed  victim.  Tate 
shuffled  up  and  down  the  room,  whistling  and  brushing  rapidly, 
looking  from  time  to  time  with  evident  dissatisfaction,  if  not 
disgust,  at  the  object  of  his  scrutiny ;  and,  after  several  of  these 
furtive  glances,  he  suddenly  desisted  from  his  occupation,  and 
once  more  stopped  abruptly  before  him. 

It  must  be  understood  that,  in  Tate's  first  surprise,  he  had 
neglected  to  offer  his  visitor  a  seat ;  therefore  Mr.  Mathews  had 


CHARLES  aLA.THEWS.  73 

remained  standing  near  the  door,  relieving  his  weariness,  after  a, 
long  journey,  by  alternately  shifting  his  position,  like  a  pupil 
taking  his  first  lesson  from  a  dancing-master ;  and  leaning  some- 
times upon  one  foot  and  then  upon  the  other,  in  awkward  em- 
barrassment. Tate,  as  I  have  observed,  stopped  and  inquired  if 
he  was  a  single  man  ?  Of  course  he  replied  in  the  negative. 
"I'm  sorry  for  it,  Mr.  Montague  ;  a  wife's  a  dead  weight  without 
a  salary,  and  I  don't  choose  my  actors  to  run  in  debt." — "  I 
hope  you  will  have  no  cause  to  complain  of  me  in  that  respect, 
sir."  Tate  was  again  busy  with  his  buckle ;  an  obstinate 
tarnish,  "  a  damned  spot,"  called  for  his  most  vehement  exertion  ; 
yet  he  spared  a  look  or  two  at  his  visitor's  face.  At  last  he 
seemed  to  have  collected  all  his  moral  force,  and,  after  another 
pause,  he  demanded,  "  Pray,  when  did  you  have  that  paralytic 
stroke,  Mr.  Maddox  ?" — "  I — I  never  had  one  at  all,  sir,"  said 
the  now  completely  mortified  youth,  with  difficulty  restraining  the 
tears  which  were  making  their  way  to  his  eyes ;  when  Tate,  giving 
him  another  earnest  look,  and  as  if  unconsciously  drawing  his 
own  mouth  awry  in  imitation  of  the  one  which  had  suggested  the 
last  question,  answered  dryly  and  significantly,  in  Mr.  Mathew's 
tone  of  voice,  as  he  turned  away,  "  Oh  !  I  thought  you  had !" 

All  this  was  inauspicious ;  and,  after  the  interview  had  lasted 
a  few  minutes  longer,  Tate  strongly  recommending  the  young 
man's  return  to  his  father,  and  an  "  honest  trade,"  as  he  said, 
all  that  could  be  gained  by  Mr.  Mathews  was  the  manager's 
slow  leave  to  let  him  enter  upon  his  probation,  and  at  least  have 
a  trial  before  final  condemnation.  Thus  dispirited,  he  returned 
to  his  anxious  wife,  with  the  saddest  impressions  and  anticipa- 
tions. However,  after  a  few  days,  his  morning  observations  of 
the  play-bills  were  cheered  by  the  sight  of  his  own  name — really 
his  name.  Mr.  Mathews,  from  the  Theatre  Royal,  Dublin  (for 
Tate  would  not  own  a  "  man  from  the  mountains"),  was  an- 
nounced to  appear  in  the  character  of  ^ilky  in  "  The  Road  to 
Ruin,"  and  Lingo  in  "The  Agreeable  Surprise." 

Mr.  Mathews's  first  appearance  was  unattended  with  any  of 
that  "pomp  and  circumstance"  usually  so  inspiriting  to  the 
debutant.  Nothing  before  or  behind  the  curtain  marked  him  as 
being  an  object  of  importance ;  besides,  the  town  was  one  of  no 
consequence,  and  could  neither  make  nor  mar  the  reputation  of 
an  actor — not  even  critical.  Tate  called  it  the  Montpellier  of 
Yorkshire,  and  I  believe  the  air  of  the  place,  and  other  local 
prejudices  unconnected  with  his  managerial  interest,  induced 
his  annual  remove  to  Pomfret  with  his  company ;  so  that  no 


74  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

sensation  was  created  for  or  against  the  new  performer.  If  any 
feeling  was  produced  by  his  appearance,  it  was  probably  to  his 
disadvantage,  their  established  favourite,  Emery,  having  satisfied 
them  that  no  other  actor  could  exceed,  few  equal  him ;  and  pro- 
bably the  recollection  of  their  brightest  star  rendered  that  of 
the  night  dim  in  comparison.  His  self-possession,  too,  shaken 
as  it  was  by  Tate's  evident  mean  opinion  of  his  talents,  and 
predisposition,  as  it  seemed,  to  crush  his  efforts,  possibly  and 
naturally  affected  his  exertions,  and  made  them  flat.  In  short, 
he  retired  from  the  scene  of  his  first  public  trial  without  any 
definite  impression  of  whether  he  had  succeeded  or  not.  Tate 
shunned  him,  the  actors  silently  pitied  him,  but  none  praised 
him ;  and  in  a  few  nights  after  he  was  to  be  seen  performing 
Kenrick,  an  old  sentimental  Irishman,  in  "  The  Heir  at  Law," 
and  an  interesting  bespangled  page  in  a  serious  ballet — the 
gentle  Theodore,  in  "  Kaymond  and  Agnes !" 

There  can  be  but  little  doubt  that  Mr.  Mathews's  first  appear- 
ance under  the  auspices  of  Tate  Wilkinson  was  a  grievous  disap- 
pointment both  to  the  manager  and  the  youthful  aspirant.  The 
characters  assigned  to  him  grew  more  and  more  insignificant, 
and  his  downfall  culminated  in  the  engagement  of  a  Mr.  Hatton, 
a  man  of  little  genius  but  of  thorough  acquaintance  with  the 
usages  of  the  stage,  who,  after  Mr.  Emery's  departure  for 
London,  was  sent  for  to  fill  those  parts  to  which  Mr.  Mathews 
had  aspired. 

Wearied  out  at  length  by  these  accumulated  causes,  he  ad- 
dressed a  letter  of  remonstrance  to  "the  manager"  (as  Tate  was 
called, jpar  excellence),  who  was  at  the  time  "ill  at  ease,"  and 
would  "  admit  no  visitors."  This  produced  the  following  reply, 
which  may  be  deemed  a  fair  specimen  of  the  critic's  temper 
towards  the  person  addressed,  remaining  at  the  same  time  as  a 
warning  instance  of  prejudiced  opinion  and  perverted  judgment. 
It  must  be  considered  a  rarity  of  its  kind,  and  was  preserved  by 
Mr.  Mathews  ever  after  with  the  most  guarded  care. 

To  Mr.  Mathews. 

I  am  dangerously  ill,  therefore  unable  to  attend  to  theatrical  grie- 
vances. After  a  2**  and  a  3*^  time  seeing  y'  performance,  I  aver'd,  and 
do  aver,  that  Misfortune  has  placed  an  insurmountable  bar  as  to  the 
possibility  of  y'  ever  being  capable  of  sustaining  the  first  line  of  comic 
business.  Mr.  Emery  I  requested  to  inform  you  of  the  same  at 
Wakefield,  who  was  entirely  of  my  opinion.     For  the  paralytic  stroke,* 

*  It  appears  that  the  writer's  impression  on  his  first  interview  with  Mr. 
Mathews,  that  the  irregularity  of  his  features  was  occasioned  by  a  paralytic- 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  75 

so  far  from  a  comic  effect,  renders  y'  performance  seriously  disa- 
greeable. I  told  Mr.  Hill*  that  not  all  the  Mirrors  in  the  kingdom, 
in  print  or  in  glass,  ever  can  establish  you  lor  a  first  comedian.  It* 
God  wills  it,  it  will  be  so,  but  no  other  order  or  interest  can  effect  such 
a  miracle.  If  you  were  to  hear  how  you  are  spoken  of  (ask  Mr. 
Jarmanf),  you  would  not  rely  too  much  on  y'  unbounded  applause  at 
Hull.  If  you  hadask'd  at  Wakefield  if  you  were  to  play  the  characters 
you  mention,  Mr.  Jarman  would  readily  have  told  you,  No.  If  you 
think  the  company  is  in  general  approv'd,  you  are  mistaken ;  am  sorry 
to  be  told,  quite  the  contrary.  Y'  Randy  is  very  bad  indeed ;  so  is 
Motley.  Jkundy  they  have  been  used  to  see  really  well  acted.  As  to 
Jabal  for  Mr.  Hatton,  it  was  his  first  request  which  1  granted,  as  Mr. 
Jarman  can  testify.  Do  you  think  I  engaged  Mr.  Hatton  to  hurt  you  ? 
On  m}'  honour,  no.  If  you  say,  why  add  to  my  expense  ?  I  answ% 
necessity,  and  full  conviction  stared  me  in  the  face.  Try  by  degrees  to 
be  useful,  and  by  such  means  get  into  respect.  Y'  worth  as  a  man  (as 
far  as  I  know)  I  much  esteem;  but  as  a  first-rate  actor,  you  must  try 
some  more  discerning  leader,  and  officer  some  other  troop.  I  think 
"  Feeble  Old  Men"  is  a  cast  you  are  most  likely  to  be  useful  in.  The 
pain  I  have  suffered  at  my  breast  in  scratching  these  lines  is  more 
piercing  than  what  you  feel  at  the  loss  of  Frank.  You  have  youth, 
sobriety,  and  assiduity,  which  sometimes  does  wonders.  Wish  Emery 
had  been  more  open  with  you.  I  recommended  the  shop,  as  suited  to 
you  and  Mrs.  M. ;  but  he  said  you  were  so  stage-bitten  it  would  only 
vex  you.  I  can  only  say,  Stay  and  be  happy,  or  Go  and  be  happy ;  and 
ever  be  happy  j  and  wishing  myself  better,  am  y"  in  great  pain, 

Tate  Wilkinson. 

Notwithstanding  this  letter,  poor  Mr.  Mathews  remained 
submissive  to  his  fate,  which  he  may  truly  be  said  to  have  thus 
ultimately  conquered ;  for  before  the  close  of  that  year  he  saw 
the  departure  of  his  rivals,  and  found  himself  in  possession  of 
all  the  parts  so  long  withheld  from  him.  He  was  ever  ready  to 
come  forward  and  undertake  anything  necessary  to  the  manager's 
interest;  his  study  was  miraculous,  and  he  could  always  be 
depended  upon ;  his  principle,  in  all  he  did,  to  be  just  to  his 
employer  and  fair  to  his  brethren,  gradually  made  his  way.  By 
degrees  he  acquired  confidence  from  trust,  and  his  powers 
became  more  and  more  apparent ;  so  that,  in  the  autumn  of  this 
year,  on  my  arrival  in  Hull,  I  found  him  the  principal  comedian 
of  the  company,  and  a  prodigious  favourite  with  his  audience 
and  the  manager.     I  had  not,  to  be  sure,  much  judgment,  or  the 

attack,  had  not  been  removed,  although  Mr.  Mathews  at  the  time  denied  that 
he  had  ever  been  visited  by  such  a  misfortune. 

*  Mr.  Hill  was  the  proprietor  of  "  The  Monthly  Mirror,"  the  magazine 
mentioned  by  Mr.  Mathews  as  having  praised  his  acting. 

t  Mr.  Jarman  was  the  prompter  of  the  theatre. 


76  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

least  experience  in  dramatic  excellence,  but  I  can  remembei*! 
thinking  him  "  a  very  funny  young  man,"  though,  as  Tate  said, 
the  "  thinnest  "  I  had  ever  seen  "  to  be  alive."  I  suspect  his 
Sentinel  in  the  play  of  "  Pizarro"  made  little  impression  upon 
me,  for  I  do  not  now  remember  seeing  him  at  all  till  he  appeared 
in  the  farce  of  "  The  Kival  Soldiers,"  as  Nipper  kin  ;  and  in  that 
his  performance  convulsed  me  with  laughter  from  beginning  to 
the  end.* 

From  this  time  Mr.  Mathews  kept  undisputed  possession  of 
his  advantage.  His  comic  singing  was  most  particularly  ad- 
mired, though  confined  in  those  days  merely  to  songs  of 
epigrammatic  point  or  humorous  detail ;  all  mainly  dependent 
for  their  etTect  upon  the  quaintness  and  oddity  of  his  style  in 
singing  them :  as  a  local  writer  once  observed,  in  reference  to 
his  early  struggles,  "  Mr.  Mathews  became  a  living  instance 
of  what  may  be  effected  by  perseverance.  It  rendered  him  one 
of  the  most  popular  actors  that  ever  appeared  in  the  Yorkshire 
theatres." 

Mr.  Mathews,  it  may  be  imagined,  became  another  creature 
from  the  time  he  found  himself  raised  from  the  depressing  posi- 
tion of  a  third-rate  actor  to  that  of  the  first ;  and  had  any  increase 
to  his  income  accompanied  his  success,  he  would  have  had  no 
alloy  to  his  satisfaction. 

Poor  Mrs.  Mathews's  projects  of  gain  by  her  publications  had 
all  terminated  in  disappointment.  She,  like  her  husband,  had 
been  a  triton  among  the  minnows,  and  flattered  into  vanity  by 
the  partiality  of  her  friends,  who  thought  her  poetry  agreeable, 
and  not  being  disposed  to  be  critical  upon  a  young  lady's  verses, 
written,  as  it  appeared,  for  private  circulation,  had  said  more"  in 
commendation  than  they  might  have  done  had  she  then  medi- 
tated the  publication  of  her  efforts.  It  was  not  to  be  expected 
that  two  people,  even  with  habits  of  the  most  provident  kind, 
could  possibly  exist  upon  eighteen  shillings  per  week ;  and  the 
non-success  of  Mr.  Mathews  having  precluded  any  profits  from 
his  benefit  of  any  consequence,  it  was  not  extraordinary  that 
some  debts  had  been  contracted,  especially  as  he  had  firmly 
abstained  from  applying  to  his  family  for  aid.  But  still  he 
worked  on,  and  still  Mrs.  Mathews  wrote — neither  of  them  to 
any  increase  of  their  pecuniary  means. 

*  Those  who  have  seen  him  perform  at  the  Adelphi,  the  first  year  he 
became  part  proprietor  of  that  theatre,  the  Tinker  {Caleb  Pipkin)^  in  Mr. 
Buckstone's  drama  of  "The  May  Queen,"  may  form  some  notion  of  him  in 
the  part  of  Nijpperkirif  both  characters  requiring  the  same  sort  of  humour. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  77 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Leeds — Prejudice  entertained  there  against  actors — Rudeness  to  female  per- 
formers— Outrage  upon  Mr.  Holman,  and  upon  Miss  Gough — Feeling  towards 
actors  in  Hull — Anecdote — Denman  and  the  landlady —  Unpopularity  of  the 
Income-tax — Mr.  Mathews's  whimsical  remonstrance  to  the  Commissioners 
— Letter  to  Mr.  Litchfield — Tate  Wilkinson's  opinion  of  Murphy's  *'  Life  of 
Garrick" — Mr.  Mathews's  success  at  York — His  fondness  for  attending 
trials — Action  for  killing  a  donkey — Witness  interrogated  by  Counsellors 
Eaine  and  Cockle — Simplicity  of  the  witness — Letter  of  Mr.  William  Mathews 
to  his  brother. 

Leeds  was  at  this  period  considered  little  better  than  the  Botany- 
Bay  of  actors.  Their  dread  of  the  season  was  in  proportion  to 
the  inconveniences  and  disagreeables  they  experienced  during  its 
course.  The  extraordinary — nay,  frightful  prejudice  cherished 
by  the  people  I  have  spoken  of  in  that  day,  made  this  periodical 
stay  amongst  them  a  matter  of  serious  dread,  especially  to  the 
females  of  the  theatre.  It  appeared  as  if  even  the  lives  of  the 
performers  were  held  in  no  consideration  amongst  a  certain  portion 
of  the  natives,  whose  estimation  of  "lakers"  seemed  to  agree 
with  ours  in  relation  to  the  most  insignificant  animals  created 
only  for  our  use.  These  people  carried  their  opinions  still  farther, 
for  they  deemed  it  no  sin  to  torture,  or  even  destroy  (could  they 
have  done  so  with  impunity)  any  one  of  the  profession.  If  an 
actress  had  occasion  to  cross  a  certain  brig  (bridge)  at  a  period 
of  the  day  when  the  croppers  were  "  sunning  themselves"  in  each 
other's  eyes  (in  other  words,  taking  their  lounge  between  their 
working  hours),  she  was  obliged  to  provide  herself  with  an 
escort  to  protect  her  from  the  rough  jokes  and  assaults  of  even 
the  most  gallant,  whose  kindness  was  as  much  dreaded  as  their 
brutahties. 

Mr.  Holman  once  came  to  Leeds  to  act,  and  not  liking  the 
dressing-room  assigned  him  in  the  theatre,  performed  his  theatrical 
toilette  at  home.  On  the  first  night  of  his  appearance,  he  was 
proceeding  in  a  sedan-chair,  dressed  for  Lord  Townley  in  "  The 
Provoked  Husband,"  in  the  customary  court-suit,  &c.,  and  other- 
wise ready  to  appear  upon  the  stage.     In  order  to  escape  notice, 


78  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

the  scanty  curtains  of  the  chair  were  drawn,  it  being  still  day- 
light. Unluckily  "  't  brig"  was  lined  on  either  side  with  its  dusky 
visitants.  The  sedan,  unluckily  also,  happened  to  be  a  novelty 
to  these  barbarians,  and  was  hailed  as  an  event — an  object  of 
excitement  and  curiosity.  "  Eh,  dom't !  what's  cooming  o'er 
t'  brig  ?  A  leather  box  wi'  two  chaps  a  carrying  o'  t' !  What 
divil  o'  thing!  Well,  I  niver  seed  sooch  in  all  moyloife!'* 
Then  stopping  the  chairmen,  who  were  proceeding  gravely  along, 
and  crowding  round  the  chair,  they  uttered  many  suggestions  as 
to  its  nature  and  use,  while  Mr.  Holman,  in  some  trepidation, 
endeavoured  to  draw  the  little  curtains  still  closer  about  him. 
The  foremost  of  the  croppers,  however,  insisted  upon  the  chair- 
men setting  "  the  thing"  down  for  his  particular  inspection,  and 
then  peering  through  a  small  line  of  uncovered  glass  into  the 
interior,  he  caught  an  obscure  view  of  poor  Lord  Townley,  who 
deeming  it  now  best  to  speak  and  awe  them  into  forbearance, 
undrew  the  curtain,  and  by  this  act  almost  sealed  his  fate.  The 
comedy  in  which  he  was  going  to  take  part  became  in  great 
danger  of  being  exchanged  for  a  tragedy,  for  no  sooner  did  the 
men  obtain  a  full  view  of  his  lordship  in  his  embroidered  coat, 
powdered  head,  and  rouged  face,  than  with  a  cry  of  horror 
(natural  enough)  they  shouted,  "  A  mon  wi'  his  face  painted !" 
"It's  a  laker!"  was  the  simultaneous  cry;  and  an  order  from  the 
crowd  to  "  toss  him  o'er  t'  brig"  was  the  consequence  of  this 
discovery. 

Whether  such  a  suggestion  would  have  been  carried  into 
execution  or  not  is  uncertain,  but  the  timely  interference  of 
several  gentlemen  of  weight  and  authority  luckily  put  the  matter 
beyond  the  control  of  Mr.  Holman's  assailants.  The  sedan  was 
ordered  on,  accompanied  by  his  deliverers  (who  were  going  to  see 
him  perform),  to  the  very  great  relief  of  the  actor,  who,  as  he 
was  carried  out  of  the  mob,  heard  one  of  the  ruffians  exclaim  to 
another,  "Well,  I'm  vexed  we  didn't  topple  him  into  t'  water. 
Where  'd  been  t'  harm  i'  drowning  a  laker  ?" 

I  remember  hearing  another  instance  which  occurred  about  a 
year  previously  to  the  foregoing.  A  Miss  Gough,  wishing  during 
the  period  of  her  sister's  performance  at  the  theatre,  to  enjoy  an 
evening's  stroll  by  the  canal-side,  found  herself  suddenly  caught 
up  in  the  arms  of  an  enormous  man-monster  of  a  stone-blue 
colour  from  head  to  feet,  dress  and  complexion.  She  struggled  for 
freedom,  which  he  declared  he  "  wad  na  gi'  her  till  she  told  him 
wha  she  was  wi'  sooch  few  claithes  on"  (the  fashion  at  that 
period  being  to  wear  very  scanty  petticoats,  and   of  thin  tex- 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  79 

ture).  Too  glad  to  give  him  the  first  part  of  the  information 
required,  in  hopes  of  release,  she  told  him  that  she  belonged 
to  the  theatre.  "Ah!  a  laker!"  cried  the  brute,  setting  her 
down  upon  her  feet,  but  holding  her  securely.  "  Here !  here ! 
here's  a  laker!"  he  bawled  out  triumphantly,  as  it  seemed,  to 
some  of  his  companions  who  were  employed  dressing  cloth  at  a 
distance.  "  Coom  hither,  aw  tell  thee,  here's  a  domned  laker  I 
aw  've  getten  a  laker  !"  Away  they  came,  leaving  their  occupa- 
tion, and  running  with  as  much  eagerness  as  might  be  supposed 
to  have  been  excited  by  an  announcement  of  a  unicorn  or  any 
rare  monster.  Men,  women,  and  children  came  thronging  round 
the  unfortunate  girl,  and  after  having  commented  upon  her  dress 
and  profession  with  coarse  jests  and  insulting  words,  they  soaked 
in  the  canal  a  quantity  of  brown  paper  (which  they  appeared  to 
use  in  their  occupation),  and  wrapped  it  round  her  slight  form, 
till  she  looked  like  a  mummy.  They  then  turned  her  forth 
towards  the  town,  driving  and  chasing  her  before  them  with 
yells  of  delight,  until  she  came  in  view  of  some  human  beings, 
who  compassionated  and  relieved  her  from  her  pursuers  and  her 
damp  habilaments. 

But  it  was  not  only  with  such  as  these  that  an  actor's  pro- 
fession was  despised,  but  even  amongst  the  majority  of  the 
inhabitants.  With  them,  actors,  showmen,  or  any  other  exhi- 
bitors, were  synonymous,  since  they  had  but  one  word  in  com- 
mon for  all ;  and  Garrick,  and  Richardson  of  "  Bartlemy  Fair," 
the  hero  of  Wilkinson's  company,  and  the  trumpeter  for  Punch, 
would  be  all  included  and  confounded  in  the  term  "  laker." 

Wakefield,  as  far  as  related  to  the  lower  orders,  was  in  the 
same  state  of  refinement.  Mr.  Mathews  was  walking  there  by 
the  river-side  one  day,  with  a  pet  puppy  at  his  heels,  when  one 
cropper  said  to  another,  "  Aw  say,  kick  that  dug ;  topple  him  into 
t'  river;  he's  nought  but  a  laker's  dug,  thou  knowst." 

At  Pontefract  and  Doncaster  such  things  were  out  of  the 
question ;  and  at  the  latter  place,  to  be  a  "laker"  was  to  ensure 
a  welcome  with  all  the  kind  and  agreeable  inhabitants  of  that 
town ;  whilst  Hull  was  the  genuine  seat  of  hospitality.  Even 
there,  however,  might  be  found  amongst  the  middle  orders  people 
who  at  the  best  looked  upon  an  actor  as  an  object  of  commisera- 
tion. In  the  winter  of  1799,  Mr.  Mathews  dined,  in  company 
with  one  of  the  performers  (Mr.  Denman),  at  a  respectable 
tradesman's  house,  where  two  neighbours  joined  the  party  after 
dinner.  When  the  glass  had  enlivened  the  party,  and  every 
one   became   chatty   and   sociable,   the   two   friends   who    had 


30  THE  LIFE  AND  COKRESPONDENCE  OF 

"dropped  in"  (and  who  were  evidently  not  theatrical),  were 
desirous  to  know  who  the  new  visitors  were.  On  receiving  from 
their  host  the  intimation  in  a  whisper,  one  of  them  expressed  his 
astonishment  aloud,  and  both  indeed  seemed  incredulous.  Mr. 
Mathews's  thin,  spare  form  was  a  striking  contrast  to  the  John- 
Bull  look  of  Denman,  who  was  ruddy  and  plump.  "  Nay,  nay, 
1  cannot  stand  that,"  exclaimed  one  of  the  worthies,  when  mine 
host  reiterated  his  assurance  that  "  the  gentlemen  were  of  Mr. 
Wilkinson's  company." — "  Why  not  ?"  asked  Mr.  Mathews,  with 
some  pique  in  his  tone  and  manner.  "  Why,"  replied  the  puzzled 
Yorkshii-eman,  "  I 's  sure  you're  both  such  nice-looking  men,  and 
so  well-dressed,  that  I  can't  believe  you  can  be  players.  You," 
continued  he,  looking  at  Mr.  Mathews,  "  do  look  a  little  bit 
hungered,  but  your  friend  there,  1  warrant,  gets  a  good  meal's 
meat  every  day  of  his  life."  Denman,  much  amused,  dryly 
observed,  "  You're  quite  right,  sir,  T  certainly  do ;  but  my  poor 
friend  there  seldom  gets  a  dinner  above  once  in  a  fortnight !" 

Amongst  other  reminiscences  of  my  husband's  Yorkshire 
engagement,  I  remember,  when  the  income-tax  occasioned  such 
commotion  and  heart-burning  amongst  people  of  small  means, 
the  actors  belonging  to  the  York  theatre  felt  the  hardship  of  its 
lessening  the  little  tney  received,  which,  at  the  utmost,  was 
barely  sufficient  to  maintain  them.  Mr.  Mathews,  just  then 
rising  into  notice,  and  his  humour  getting  pretty  well  understood 
in  private  as  w^ell  as  in  public,  took  it  into  his  head  to  resist  this 
claim  upon  his  little  pittance,  with  all  the  power  of  his  droll 
fancy ;  and  he  hit  upon  an  expedient  as  original  as  it  was 
eccentric,  in  order  to  evade  the  tax.  To  induce  a  mitigation  of 
its  enforcement,  he  drew  out  a  long  and  tedious  list  of  all  the 
professional  drawbacks  upon  his  limited  receipts,  and  in  a 
lengthened  string  of  absurd  items,  enumerated  with  ingenious 
minuteness  his  "stock  in  trade;"  something  in  the  Ibllowing 
manner,  but  extended  beyond  my  limits  to  give  entire.  A 
specimen  will  suffice. 

At  "  the  head  and  front"  of  his  inventory,  we  wall  suppose 
"wigs,"  which  were  described  in  all  their  infinite  variety  :  such 
as,  "  Black  wigs,  white  wigs,  brown  wigs,  red  wigs ;  bush  wigs, 
tye  wigs,  bob  wigs,  bishops'  wigs  ;  wigs  with  a  tail,  wigs  without 
a  tail ;  lawyers'  wigs,  judges'  wigs,  parsons'  wigs,  powdered  wigs ; 
old  men's  wigs,  young  men's  wigs,"  &c. 

"  Natural  heads  of  hair :  namely,  red  hair,  grey  hair,  flaxen 
hair,  brown  hair,  black  hair,  Quakers'  hair,  countrymen's  hair, 
and  bald  heads  of  every  description.  Beards,  whiskers,  mus- 
tachios,  eyebrows,"  &c. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  81 

Stockings  of  every  colour  were  then  enumerated.  "  White, 
black,  brown,  yellow,  grey,  blue,  green ;  white  stockings  with 
red  clocks,  red  stockings  with  white  clocks,  white  stockings  with 
blue  clocks,  blue  stockings  with  white  clocks ;  silk  stockings, 
worsted  ditto ;  black  stockings  with  scarlet  clocks,  scarlet 
stockings  with  black  clocks,  yellow  stockings  with  green  clocks, 
red  stockings  with  no  clocks,  &c. 

"  Old  men's  shoes,  young  men's  shoes,  velvet  shoes,  leather 
shoes,  gouty  shoes,  dancing  shoes,  hobnail  shoes,  square-toed 
shoes,  round-toed  shoes,"  &c.  After  which,  boots  of  every 
quaUty  and  shape  were  described.  Then  shoe  and  knee-buckles 
of  every  size  and  fashion  :  "  diamond  buckles,  paste  buckles, 
gold  buckles,  silver  buckles,  stock  buckles,  belt  buckles,  hat 
buckles,"  &c.,  &c.  After  these  regular  requisites  were  given, 
came  the  miscellaneous  part  of  his  stock,  such  as  "  hats,  feathers, 
caps,  cravats,  stocks,  ruffles,  frills,  neckerchiefs,  handkerchiefs, 
pens,  books,  ink,  paper,  music  paper,  red  ochre,  rouge,  carmine, 
hair-powder,  wax  candles,  Indian  ink,  camel's  hair  pencils,  hare's 
feet,  whiting,  burnt  corks,  cold  cream,  Windsor  soap,  and  hucka- 
back towels." 

The  above  abridgment  of  this  almost  interminable  list,  which 
covered  many  sheets  of  paper,  will  give  some  idea  of  the  whole, 
which  was  drawn  out  with  the  most  scrupulous  exactness.  The 
author  of  this  piece  of  absurdity  was  told  that  the  commissioners 
listened  to  the  account  of  the  comedian's  expenses,  which  was 
read  aloud  to  them,  and  which  they  thought  would  last  until 
the  "crack  of  doom,"  with  matter-of-fact  attention  and  gravity 
for  a  few  minutes.  This  was  succeeded  by  peals  of  laughter  and 
perfect  good  humour  to  the  close ;  and  though  it  is  to  be  feared 
that  this  laughable  appeal  did  not  exempt  his  theatrical  brethren 
from  the  tax,  it  is  quite  certain  that  Mr.  Mathews  was  never 
called  upon  in  York,  from  that  time  forth,  to  contribute  to  it. 

To  Mr.  John  Litchfield. 

York,  March  7th,  1801. 
Deae  Jack, — Murphy's  "  Life  of  Garrick"  has  done  our  worthy  old 
manager  such  mischief  that  he  cannot  eat,  drink,  or  sleep.  He  was  in 
eager  expectation  of  this  publication,  and  hoped  to  derive  much  amuse- 
ment from  it;  but  his  disappointment  has  been  such,  that  he  attributes 
an  illness  under  which  he  now  labours  to  that  cause.  Certainly  it  is 
not  what  might  have  been  expected  from  so  clever  a  man  as  Murphy. 
It  was  natural  to  look  for  some  anecdotes  of  Garrick  hitherto  un- 
published, from  a  man  who  was  on  the  stage  himself  in  his  time.  This 
circumstance  he  never  mentions.     In  fact,  there  is  nothing  to  be  met 

G 


S2  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

.witli  but  that  which  we  have  already  seen  in  Davies,  Wilkinson,  &c. ; 
and  the  prologues  may  be  had  for  a  shilling,  in  the  **'  Spouters'  Com- 
panion." We  are  much  obliged  to  him,  certainly,  for  his  account  of  the 
plot,  characters,  &c.,  in  "  Venice  Preserved,"  "  Orphan,"  &c. 

However,  to  my  business.  Mr.  Wilkinson  has  detected  some  gross 
errors,  particularly  that  of  the  King  not  having  seen  Garrick  for  many 
years  after  he  came  to  London  ;  and  that  Garrick  solicited  to  play 
before  him.  He  has  the  play-bills  of  those  times  by  him,  and  has 
proved  him  to  be  wrong.  He  is  anxious  to  publish  his  discovery  of 
Murphy's  mistake,  and  requests  to  know  if  you  can  oblige  him  with 
about  six  pages  in  your  next  Mirror ;  or,  should  it  be  more,  to  be 
continued.  He  says  he  wants  neither  fame  nor  profit,  but  he  could  not 
resist  correcting  such  gross  mistakes  as  Murphy  has  made,  and  he  likes 
the  truth  to  be  spoken.  Now,  supposing  a  theatrical  controversy  to 
be  rather  valuable  to  a  periodical  publication,  I  flattered  him  with  hopes 
of  your  acceding  to  his  request.  Do  not  fail  to  let  him  know  by  return 
of  post,  and,  if  it  be  possible,  pray  grant  it  to  him  ;  for  his  perturbed 
spirit  will  not  rest  till  his  sentiments  are  known.  He  has  interlarded 
all  his  conversation  these  eight  or  nine  days  past  with  this  subject : 
Question — "  What  play,  sir,  have  you  fixed  for  Monday  ?"     Answer — 

*'  Why,  Mr.  Richer  dances,  and  the  farce  is ,  and  as  to  his  saying 

that  the  King  did  not  see  Garrick,  it  is  all  nonsense ;  because  my 
Memoirs  will  tell,"  &c.     Question — "Good  day,  sir;  any  news  ?    How 

is  the  King  ?"     "  Why,  they  say  that .     For  my  part,  I  have  no 

patience,  because  now  the  '  Chinese  Festival'  was  played  when  the  King 
bespoke,"  &c.     Question — "  What  will  you  have  for  dinner,  my  dear  ?" 

Answer — "  Dinner !  Oh,  that  mutton  yesterday,  was ,  and  then  you 

know.  Murphy  not  giving  any  account  of  his  own  playing,  and  giving 
us  all  the  prologues  that  we  know  b}'-  heart,"  &c.  Ha !  ha !  ha  !  Oh, 
Jack,  I  wish  you  could  hear  him  ! 

Yours  unalterably,        Chaeles  Mathews. 

Mrs.  Simpson's,  Stonegate. 


York,  22nd  March,  1801. 
Deae  Jack, — I  have  waited  several  days  in  expectation  of  Mr. 
"  Williamskin's"*  remarks  on  Murphy's  life,  but  heat  last  has  declared 
that  he  cannot  finish  them  till  Passion  Week,  so  of  course  they  cannot 
be  inserted  in  the  Mirror  till  the  number  for  April.  I  am  very  sorry, 
my  dear  Jack,  that  I  shall  not  be  able  to  see  you,  as  I  proposed,  in 
Passion  Week.  I  am  so  engaged  in  the  business,  that  I  was  fearful 
of  getting  excused  from  a  night  or  two's  plays,  without  which  it  would 
have  been  but  little  pleasure  to  me,  as  I  should  have  had  so  short  a 
time  to  stay ;  but  I  tbund  from  the  arrangements  that  I  could  not  be 
spared.  I  then  had  some  idea  of  accepting  an  invitation  from  Ben 
Thompson,  to  whom  I  was  introduced,  and  with  whom  I  spent  some 
pleasant  hours  in  Hull.     I  had  made  up  my  mind  to  spend  a  part  of 


The  name  Mr.  Wilkinson  called  himself  occasionally. 


J 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  88 

the  week  at  Nottingham,  but  even  of  that  I  am  disappointed,  for  the 
manager  has  his  benefit  on  Easter  Tuesday,  and  gets  up  "  Deaf  and 
Dumb,"  and  "  II  Bonducani ;"  and  having  Dominique  and  the  Cadi 
to  study,  with  rehearsals,  &c.,  it  will  be  impossible.  You  may  judge 
of  my  disappointment. 

I  am  getting  on  in  York  very  fast,  and  am  told  by  the  inhabitants 
that  I  am  a  great  favourite,  which  I  did  not  think  was  the  case  last 
year,  my  benefit  being  only  25Z.  To  be  sure,  that  is  no  absolute  proof, 
though  Mr.  Richer  had  96Z. ;  and  one  of  his  houses,  his  last  night,  in 
the  assize  week,  amounted,  at  advanced  prices,  to  143Z. ;  so  much  for 
heels !  However,  they  promise  me  better  things  this  year  ;  but  Hull 
is  our  best  town,  for  a  favourite  in  Hull  connot  have  a  bad  house.  But 
they  are  so  cursedly  fashionable  in  York,  that  we  have  either  concerts, 
routs,  and  parties,  or  assemblies,  every  night  in  the  week.  However, 
I  have  had  "  Counsellor's  opinion"  of  my  acting  this  week,  and  Serjeant 
Cockle  awarded  great  praise  to  it.  I  had  the  pleasure  of  making  him 
laugh  heartily  in  Caleb  Quotem.  I  have  delayed  saying  anything 
about  the  novel,  and  am  now  writing  to  you  in  a  hurry ;  if  you  have; 
therefore,  leisure  to  make  any  alterations,  or  improvements,  in  the 
following  title,  I  will  be  obliged — "  What  has  been." 

I  find  it  so  lame,  and  I  am  so  unused  to  anything  of  that  sort,  tha^ 
I  will  thank  you  to  write  something  in  its  stead.     Adieu. 

Yours  unalterably,        Chaeles  Mathews. 

Mr.  Mathews  was  always  exceedingly  fond  of  hearing  trials, 
and  during  the  assize  weeks  at  York  was  a  frequent  attendant  in 
the  courts  of  justice,  whence  he  derived  much  of  that  vast  stock 
of  observation  of  life  and  character  of  which  he  so  successfully- 
availed  liimself  in  after  years. 

He  felt  great  enjoyment  from  the  frequently  ludicrous  trials 
at  which  he  was  present  in  the  civil  courts,  where  originals 
abounded,  and  where  the  passions,  in  all  their  varieties  and 
shades,  are  displayed,  and  characteristic  traits  are  unfolded  to 
the  observer,  by  the  "  cunning  of  the  scene."  My  husband  felt 
that  much  was  to  be  gathered  from  the  contemplation  of  human 
nature  under  the  conflicting  and  self-deluding  position  of  plain- 
tiff and  defendant.  He  often  related  cases  of  deep  interest,  but 
more  commonly  those  of  a  ridiculous  nature. 

The  mention  of  Serjeant  Cockle  recals  the  recollection  of  a 
trivial  but  amusing  fact,  which  he  related  to  me  on  the  day  it 
occurred,  and  which  had  convulsed  the  court  with  laughter.  Jt 
was  an  instance  of  naivete  in  a  witness  whom  he  saw  examined 
at  York.  An  action  was  brought  against  the  owner  of  a  waggon, 
which  by  the  reckless  driving  of  the  waggoner  had  forced  a  poor 
donkey  against  a  wall,  and  there  pressed  the  poor  creature  to 
death.     Compensation  was  therefore  sought  by  its  proprietor 


S4!  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

for  the  loss  of  the  animal  and  its  services.  This  trial  caused 
much  mirth  in  its  progress.  The  principal  witness  for  the 
plaintiff  was  the  driver  of  the  donkey,  who,  feeling  himself  very 
much  "brow-beat"  by  the  defendant's  counsel,  Mr.  Eaine, 
became  exceedingly  nervous  and  confused  in  his  evidence,  which 
he  gave  with  his  eyes  upon  the  ground.  He  was  several  times 
reprimanded  by  the  judge  for  not  looking  in  the  faces  of  those 
by  whom  he  was  interrogated,  and  desired  to  hold  up  his  head. 
The  poor  timid  fellow's  embarrassment  increased  upon  every 
reproof,  and  the  opposing  counsel,  Mr.  Raine  (who  had  a 
powerful  cast  in  his  eyes),  was  particularly  severe  with  him, 
repeating  the  judge's  injunction  several  times,  saying,  "  Hold  up 
your  head,  witness  ;  look  up ;  why  don't  you  look  up,  I  say  ? 
Can't  you  hold  up  your  head,  fellow  ?  Can't  you  look  as  I  do  ?'* 
"Nay,  sir,"  replied  the  countryman,  with  perfect  simplicity, 
*'  I  can't — you  squint." 

The  laughter  of  the  court  now  gave  the  supporting  counsel, 
Serjeant  Cockle  (who  was  also  a  sharp  questioner,  but,  luckily 
for  the  poor  witness,  on  his  side),  opportunity  of  calling  upon 
the  man  to  describe  the  local  situations  of  the  several  parties 
concerned,  their  relative  positions  at  the  time  of  the  accident 
and  death  of  the  poor  donkey,  where  the  waggon  was,  and 
where  the  animal,  &c.  The  poor  harassed  witness  paused  for  a 
minute,  standing  with  his  eyes  again  downcast,  as  if  he  saw  no 
possibility,  by  words,  of  giving  the  required  explanation.  Objects 
palpable  seemed  necessary  to  describe  the  scene  referred  to. 
However,  looking  stealthily  round  at  the  parties  present,  as  he 
scratched  his  head,  the  image  of  perplexity,  while  Serjeant 
Cockle  mildly  urged  him  to  obey  orders,  he  at  length  seemed 
to  have  arranged  the  means  in  his  mind's  eye  of  giving  the 
required  information.  Hesitatingly  he  began — "  Weel,  my  Lord 
Joodge,  I'll  tell  ye  how  it  happened,  as  well  asl  can.  First  of  all," 
turning  to  Cockle,  " you'll  suppose  you  are  the  wall." — "Very 
good,"  said  Cockle.  "Ay,  you  are  the  wall,"  repeated  the  wit- 
ness, and  the  counsel,  rather  impatient  at  the  repetition,  replied, 
*'  Yes,  yes  ;  now  proceed.  I  am  the  wall.  Well  ?" — "  Yees,  sir," 
reiterated  the  man,  "  you  are  the  wall."  Then  changing  his 
own  position  in  the  court  to  another  spot,  he  added,  "  And  now, 
I  am  the  waggon." — "  Very  well,"  observed  the  judge,  in  token 
of  his  understanding  him,  "  proceed." — "  Yees,"  again  asserted 
the  tedious,  but  earnest  witness,  "  I  am  the  waggon." — "  Well, 
well,"    said   the   now  impatient  judge,  "you've  told  us   thafc^ 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  8q 

before.   Go  on  ;  you're  the  waggon." — "  Yees,  I'm  the  waggon— r 
and,"  with  a  low  bow,  "your  lordship's  the  ass." 

This  evidence,  though  not  perhaps  quite  satisfactory  to  the 
judge,  was  conclusive. 

To  Mr.  Charles  Mathews, 

Barbadoes,  June  5th,  1801. 

My  dear  Charles, — There  is  a  melancholy  pleasure  in  communi- 
cating our  thoughts  to  the  objects  of  our  best  regards,  when  at  an 
immense  distance  from  us,  which  is  not  to  be  conceived  by  those  who 
pass  their  lives  in  the  dull  uniformity  of  a  settled  existence,  and  with- 
out even  an  occasional  separation  from  those  they  love.  When  I  could 
hear  every  day  of  your  proceedings,  I  acknowledge  that  you  had  some 
reason  to  complain  of  my  indolence,  though  never  of  my  love  to  you 
and  yours.  The  case  is  now  altered,  and  the  desire  of  hearing  from 
you,  and  communicating  with  you,  becomes  a  passion  of  great  force  in 
my  breast.  Your  happiness  is  a  great  object  with  me,  and  it  is  with 
much  impatience  1  am  waiting  to  have  a  communication  of  good  news 
from  you  or  your  wife.  Do  not,  I  entreat  you,  suffer  any  notion  of  my 
former  negligence  to  prevent  your  writing  to  me  by  every  opportunity. 
There  are  two  pair  of  hands  in  your  family  fully  capable  of  contri- 
buting to  the  pleasure  of  an  absent  friend  and  brother ;  and  you  will  be 
really  inexcusable,  if  one  or  other  of  you  do  not  frequently  let  me  know 
how  you  pass  your  time,  and  give  me  full  information  of  the  ameli- 
oration of  your  prospects  in  life,  and  your  progress  towards  the  higher 
situations  in  the  liberal  profession  in  which  you  are  engaged.  I  have 
been  in  this  island  two  months,  and  have  met  with  the  greatest  hospi- 
tality and  friendship.  A  better  prospect,  however,  offering  itself  for 
the  acquisition  of  money  in  Tobago,  I  am  about  to  quit  this  place  for 
the  latter,  and  as  there  are  only  two  lawyers  in  the  island,  I  make  no 
doubt,  with  the  recommendations  I  shall  have,  of  soon  acquiring  a 
considerable  share  of  business. 

Hitherto  ill-fortune  has  pursued  me  in  every  shape,  but  I  hope  that 
her  persecution  is  nearly  over ;  and  I  trust  that  hereafter  I  shall  be 
enabled  to  spend  a  tranquil  life  in  the  society  of  my  friends  in  England 
in  ease  and  affluence.  Whatever  may  be  my  fate,  1  shall  still  have  the 
consolation  of  having  exerted  myself,  and  of  having  acquired  in  every 
situation  the  esteem  of  men  of  sense  and  worth.  There  has  never 
occurred  in  the  course  of  my  life  any  circumstance  so  flattering  to  me 
as  the  estimation  in  which  I  have  the  honour  to  be  held  by  some  of  the 
first  people  in  point  of  consequence  and  liberality  of  sentiment  in  this 
island,  to  whom  I  had  not  even  the  slight  introduction  of  a  letter. 
Success,  therefore,  in  my  object  will  be  the  highest  gratification  of  ray 
self-love,  as  I  shall  in  that  case  with  propriety  call  myself  the  fabrl* 
cator  of  my  own  fortunes.  ^ 

You  also,  my  dear  brother,  will  have  a  similar  gratification.  You 
have  uniformly  gained  the  esteem  of  strangers  j  and  by  a  continuance 


86  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

of  the  same  good  conduct  you  may  be  certain  of  a  final  termination  of 
all  your  wants,  and  satisfaction  of  every  wish  of  your  heart.  I  hope 
JBliza  continues  to  employ  her  pen,  and,  still  more,  that  she  takes  pains 
to  improve  her  style.  Her  invention  and  powers  are  good ;  and  by  a 
constant  perusal  of  the  best  writers,  and  a  sedulous  attention  to  their 
errors,  and  the  defects  of  her  own  compositions,  she  may  hereafter 
expect  both  fame  and  fortune  from  her  exertions  j  .but  without  labour 
neither  can  be  acquired. 

I  hope  you  both  continue  to  enjoy  good  health.  My  own  is  better 
•than  ever  it  was  in  England.  Heat  is  the  element  in  which  I  live. 
•In  cold  weather  I  have  a  bare,  comfortless  existence.  Tell  Eliza  from 
me,  that  I  sincerely  wish  her  well  in  body  and  mind ;  but  that  to  secure 
the  latter  from  disease,  she  must  carefully  watch  that  the  seeds  of 
auperstition,  which  some  one  has  plentifully  sown  in  her  heart,  do  not 
bring  forth  the  fruit  it  generally  does,  illiberality  of  sentiment,  and 
that  worst  of  all  fiends,  religious  bigotry.  The  whole  history  of  man- 
kind is  but  a  relation  of  the  fatal  and  mischievous  effects  of  this 
diabolical  tyrant,  who  has  uniformly  preyed  upon  the  enlightened  few 
that  have  dared  to  lift  up  their  heads  against  the  oppressor  of  their 
afflicted  brethren,  and  has  gnawed  the  very  vitals  of  social  existence. 
-There  is  no  part  of  the  globe  that  is  not  even  now  groaning  beneath 
her  baneful  pressure ;  and,  whatever  form  she  assumes,  she  still  arro- 
Ijates  to  herself  the  claim  of  infallibility,  and  her  votaries,  of  whatever 
sect  they  may  be,  damn  by  wholesale  all  the  rest  of  the  world. 
■  A  freedom  from  superstition  is  the  first  blessing  we  can  enjoy. 
■Religion  in  some  shape  seems  necessary  to  political  existence.  The 
wise  man  laughs  at  the  follies  of  the  vulgar,  and  in  the  pure  contem- 
plation of  a  benevolent  Author  of  all  beings,  finds  that  happiness  which 
others  in  vain  look  for  amid  the  load  of  trumpery  and  ceremonies  with 
which  they  think  the  Creator  is  gratified.  If  He  can  be  gratified  by 
:&nj  exertion  of  feeble  mortals,  it  must  be  when  they  imitate  His  per- 
fection by  mutual  benevolence  and  kindness.  That  you  may  long 
enjoy  these  blessings  is  the  sincere  prayer  of  your  brother  and  friend, 

W.  Mathews. 

"With  the  above  remarks  the  writer's  early  experience  had 
Something  to  do ;  and  his  feelings  naturally  took  alarm  at  a 
.mistaken  tendency,  evident  to  all  who  knew  the  amiable  person 
to  whom  he  alludes.  Mr.  William  Mathews  had  in  his  boyhood 
•felt  the  gloom  and  rigours  of  fanaticism  under  his  father's  roof, 
■where  he  had  ceased  to  reside  for  some  years,  although  he 
•frequently  visited  it,  and  was  on  the  most  affectionate  terms 
with  all  his  family,  who  might  be  said  to  idolize  him.  But  in 
these  visits  he  resisted  with  all  the  energies  of  his  strong  mind 
every  aft;er  association  with  the  ignorant  and  illiberal  portion  of 
.his  father's  "  brethren." 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  87 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Mr.  Mathews's  accident  while  performing  at  York — Death  of  his  brother — 
Letter  to  Mr.  Litchfield — Mrs.  Mathews's  illness  and  dying  wishes — Letter 
to  Mr.  Litchfield — Death  of  Mrs.  Mathews — A  remarkable  dream — Letter 
from  Mr.  Colman,  offering  Mr.  Mathews  an  engagement  in  London — Cor- 
respondence on  the  subject. 

The  September  of  this  year  (1801)  brought  with  it  much 
calamity  and  sorrow.  Mr.  Mathews,  while  performing  the  Obi- 
Woman  in  "  Three-fingered  Jack  "  (in  compliance  with  a  whim  of 
his  master),  was  crouching  under  a  heavy  platform,  when  the 
whole  of  it  suddenly  gave  way  and  fell  upon  him  !  The  audience 
and  all  present  were  miich  alarmed,  and  believed  that  he  was 
killed,  but  after  the  tedious  process  of  removing  the  whole  of 
the  apparatus,  he  was  found  alive,  but  senseless  ;  nor  was  he 
restored  to  consciousness  for  a  long  time,  when  his  bruises  were 
found  to  be  severe.  He  was  then  put  to  bed  in  a  wretched 
state  of  suffering,  covered  with  plaisters  and  bandages ;  and  as 
"  one  sorrow  seldom  comes,  but  brings  an  heir  that  may  succeed," 
a  letter  by  the  next  morning's  post  filled  his  heart  with  the 
deepest  anguish.  The  cause  of  this  will  be  explained  in  the 
following  bill,  issued  from  the  theatre  the  same  day  : 

Theatre,  Wakefield,  Sept.  19th,  1801. 
The  unfortunate  accident  which  Mr.  Mathews  met  with  last  night  in 
the  entertainment  of  "  Obi,"  and  in  addition  to  that  misfortune,  the 
melancholy  news  received  this  day  of  the  sudden  death  of  his  brother, 
has  so  affected  him  as  to  render  it  utterly  impossible  for  him  to  make 
his  appearance  on  the  stage  this  evening.  Mr.  Wilkinson  is  therefore 
under  the  absolute  necessity  of  changing  the  play  atid  farce  to  Dr. 
Goldsmith's  favourite  comedy  of  "  She  Stoops  to  Conquer,"  and  "The 
Poor  Soldier." 

Thus,  wounded  alike  in  body  and  mind,  Mr.  Mathews  con- 
tinued incapable  of  any  exertion  of  either  for  some  time,  as  the 
annexed  letter,  dated  a  month  after,  to  his  kind  friend  Mr. 
Litchfield  (by  whom  his  brother's  death  had  been  communi- 
cated to  him),  will  show. 


88  THE  LIFE  AND  COREESPONDENCE  OF 

To  Mr.  John  Litchfield. 

Doncaster,  October  ISth,  1801. 

I  know,  my  dear  friend,  that  you  will  not  attribute  my  silence  to 
neglect,  or  imagine  that  I  have  not  a  proper  sense  of  your  kindness ; 
but  you  are  of  course  aware,  from  "  sad  experience,"  what  must  have 
been  my  feelings  on  the  receipt  of  your  melancholy,  though  kind  and 
sensible,  letter.  I  never  received  such  a  shock  before.  I  have  since 
found  that  it  was  mentioned  in  the  Yorkshire  papers  three  days  before 
I  received  the  unhappy  news  from  you.  I  seldom  miss  reading  the 
papers,  but  it  so  happened  that  just  at  that  time  we  were  travelling, 
and  I  had  no  opportunity  of  seeing  them.  To  have  received  the  intel- 
ligence in  such  a  way  would  have  been,  if  possible,  a  worse  shock  to 
my  spirits.  I  feel  many  obligations  to  you,  my  dear  and  valued  friend, 
for  the  manly  and  sensible  consolation  you  offered  in  your  letter. 

Poor  William !  never  were  two  brothers  more  enthusiastically 
attached  to  each  other  than  that  noble  fellow  and  myself.  Why  would 
he  be  persuaded  to  go  to  that  fatal  country  ?  I  think  it  not  at  all 
irrational  to  say,  that  whoever  goes  voluntarily  to  that  cursed  climate 
is  in  some  degree  guilty  of  suicide ;  and  if  otherwise,  those  who  per- 
suade him  are  in  some  degree  guilty  of  murder.  How  many  thousand 
Europeans  have  found  their  graves  in  that  destructive  spot.  But  it  is 
in  vain  to  lament !  The  grief  one  naturally  feels,  however,  at  the  loss 
of  friends  is  considerably  augmented  when  they  die  at  a  distance ;  for 
there  is  a  melancholy  satisfaction  in  reflecting  that  we  had  it  in  our 
power  to  soothe  and  comfort  the  last  moments  of  a  departed  friend. 
Poor  lamented  William  !  what  must  have  been  his  sensations  !  How 
must  his  sufferings  have  been  aggravated  by  anticipating  the  severe 
shock  his  death  must  occasion  to  his  beloved  parents  and  family.  I 
think  it  somewhat  singular  that  the  person  who  wrote  on  the  subject 
should  not  mention  the  cause  of  his  death,* 

Yours  unalterably,        Chaeles  Mathews. 

Mr.  Mathews  had  scarcely  time  allowed  him  to  recover  from 
the  effects  of  this  severe  blow  upon  his  affections,  when  another 
threatened  to  lay  prostrate  his  domestic  happiness  and  "  desolate 
his  hearth." 

For  many  months  past  the  natural  delicacy  of  Mrs.  Mathews's 
constitution  had  increased,  and  at  length  a  more  serious  result 
seemed  impending  than  was  at  first  apprehended.  The  symp- 
toms of  decline  hourly  gained  ground  ;  her  habits  of  confinement 
(for  she  still  clung  to  the  fallacious  hope  of  gain  by  her  pen,  and 
was  constantly  devoted  to  its  exercise),  and  her  anxiety  to  con- 
tribute to  her  husband's  narrow  and  inadequate  means  were  such, 
that  she  neither  allowed  herself  air  nor  proper  exercise;  and 
everybody  who  saw  her,  except  (as  it  generally  happens)  those 

*  It  was  afterwards  ascertained  that  he  died  of  the  yellow  fever. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  89 

who  were  most  interested  in  her  safety,  clearly  perceived  her 
danger.  She  grew  weaker  and  weaker,  but  the  activity  of  her 
mind,  and  her  naturally  good  spirits,  not  only  deceived  her 
husband,  but  even  herself;  and  it  was  not  until  the  winter  of 
this  year  that  he  apprehended  any  serious  catastrophe.  Phy- 
sicians were  then  called  in,  and  the  "  coming  event  cast  its 
shadow  before  ;"  for  the  shocked  husband  was  candidly  told 
that  medical  aid  could  not  avert  the  prematvire  doom  which 
hung  over  the  head  of  his  amiable  wife. 

She  daily  grew  worse,  and  at  last  was  constantly  confined  to 
her  bed.  Her  own  convictions  may  be  learned  from  the  follow- 
ing circumstance,  which  I  must  introduce  with  a  compliment 
necessarily  implied  to  myself.  Mrs.  Mathews,  from  the  first 
moment  of  our  meeting,  conceived  a  violent  affection  for  me ; 
and,  though  I  was  many  years  her  junior,  she  sought  my  friend- 
ship and  regard  by  every  means  in  her  power.  I  was  hardly 
capable  of  estimating  her  superiority  of  intellect,  but  I  loved 
her  sufficiently  to  think  her  society  desirable  ;  and  I  esteemed 
her  husband  as  an  honourable  young  man,  and,  to  my  perception, 
the  most  perfect  comic  actor  in  the  world.  In  fact,  I  would 
stand  at  the  side-scenes  for  a  whole  evening  to  see  him  act,  so 
delighted  was  I  with  him ;  further  than  this,  I  was  unconscious 
of  partiality  for  him. 

It  happened  that  at  one  period,  during  the  winter  of  this  year, 
I  had  not  been  so  recently  to  see  my  poor  friend  as  I  wished. 
The  weather  was  severe,  and  her  habitation  distant  from  my 
own :  I  was,  besides,  constantly  occupied  at  the  theatre,  where 
I  received  daily  accounts  of  her  state  from  her  husband,  whose 
depression  was  evidently  increasing ;  and  messages  of  the  kindest 
nature  passed  through  him  between  the  invalid  and  myself. 
One  evening,  Mr  Mathews  told  me  that  his  wife  was  better,  and 
was  most  desirous  that  I  would  go  to  see  her  the  next  day  at  a 
particular  hour.  Of  course  I  obeyed  her  summons ;  and  found 
her,  as  I  had  been  led  to  expect,  apparently  much  better.  I 
complimented  her  upon  the  favourable  change,  which  she  told 
me  was  owing  to  a  design  she  had  conceived,  and  in  the  fulfiU 
ment  of  which  she  required  me  to  aid  her.  I  was  delighted ; 
but  the  invalid  wished  to  postpone  the  explanation  until  her 
husband's  return  home,  which  she  expected  every  moment.  In 
the  mean  time,  she  chatted  with  cheerfulness,  and  would  be 
propped  up  in  bed,  in  order,  as  she  said,  to  be  able  to  look  at  us 
both  while  she  revealed  her  project.  Mr.  Mathews  at  last 
entered  the  room,  and  uttered  an  exclamation  of  surprise  and 


W  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

pleasure  at  seeing  the  poor  sufferer  able  to  be  raised  up  as  she 
had  been.  She  repeated  to  him  what  she  had  told  me,  that  the 
cause  of  her  present  comfort  was  that  which  she  had  called  us 
together  to  reveal  ;  and  after  a  preface,  which  agitated  all 
parties  very  much  (for  she  candidly  avowed  her  conviction  that  it 
was  out  of  the  power  of  human  skill  to  save  her),  she  pa- 
thetically deplored  leaving  her  husband,  particularly  as  he 
would  naturally  marry  again — possible/  a  woman  who  would  less 
understand  his  valuable  qualities  of  heart  and  mind  than  she 
had  done.  She  saw,  too,  in  that  case,  that  he  would  be  wretched, 
and  this  idea  had  preyed  upon  her  feelings  as  her  disease  in- 
creased, and  sharpened  all  her  pains. 

During  a  pause  which  her  weakness  rendered  necessary,  her 
hearers  looked  at  each  other  with  perplexity,  and  some  suspicion 
that  her  intellects  were  wandering.  She  resumed,  however,  and 
after  one  or  two  affecting  allusions  to  her  own  death,  which  she 
predicted  must  occur  within  a  brief  period  from  the  time  she  was 
addressing  us,  turning  to  me,  she  began  to  expatiate  upon  her 
feelings  and  affection  towards  me,  and  deplored  my  partially 
unprotected  state,  which  my  extreme  youth  and  inexperience 
rendered  so  dangerous.  The  thought  of  this,  she  declared, 
doubled  her  remaining  cares  in  this  world,  and  she  conjured  me, 
with  her  "dear  husband,"  to  take  compassion  upon  her  state, 
and  the  fears  which  so  embittered  her  last  days,  by  making 
a  promise,  jointly  with  him,  to  fulfil  her  dying  wishes.  The 
poor  sufferer  then  took  her  husband's  hand  in  hers,  and  kissed  it 
fervently,  and  asking  for  mine,  and  pressing  it  also  to  her 
feverish  lips  in  a  solemn  manner,  which  I  remember  made  me 
tremble  all  over,  called  upon  us  both  to  pledge  ourselves  to 
become  man  and  wife  after  her  dissolution ! 

It  would  be  impossible  to  describe  our  surprise,  embarrassment, 
and  distress.  The  proposition  was  truly  painful  to  me,  and  it 
was  impossible  not  to  feel  for  the  equally  delicate  position  of 
Mr.  Mathews,  who  rather  impetuously  reproved  the  poor  in- 
valid, for  having  drawn  him  into  so  extraordinary  a  dilemma ; 
whilst  I,  covered  with  confusion  and  drowned  in  tears,  sobbed 
with  agony  at  the  necessity  I  felt  of  rejecting  the  proposal, 
in  which  she  said  she  believed  she  provided  for  the  mutual  good 
of  the  two  beings  she  loved  best.  Dreading  the  worst  conse- 
quences from  the  agitation  and  disappointment  of  her  romantic 
project,  I  fell  upon  my  knees  at  her  bed-side,  beseeching  her 
pardon  at  the  impossibility  I  felt  to  comply  with  her  desire, 
from  a  total  absence  of  any  feeling  but  that  of  friendship  for 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  91 

her  husband.  As  for  poor  Mr.  Mathews,  he  seemed  inexpres- 
sibly shocked  and  mortified  at  the  situation  into  which  he  had 
been  surprised,  as  well  as  for  the  distressing  scene  in  which  I 
had  been  implicated.  After  I  had  soothed  her  as  far  as  pos- 
sible, and  reiterated  my  want  of  power  to  think  of  such  an 
union,  I  quitted  the  chamber  of  my  poor  dying  friend ;  her  hus- 
band rushed  after  me,  beseeching  me  not  to  harbour  for  one 
moment  a  suspicion  that  he  had  the  remotest  idea  of  the  nature 
of  his  wife's  intention,  when  he  delivered  her  summons  to  me, 
and  begging  me  to  attribute  her  extraordinary  conduct  to  a 
sHght  delirium,  for  such  he  felt  assured  it  was. 

However  this  might  be,  I  ever  after,  during  the  remainder 
of  her  painful  existence,  dreaded  and  avoided  any  approach  to 
confidential  communication  with  her ;  and,  I  fear,  saw  less  of 
her  than  a  strict  feeling  of  friendship  would  justify.  It  may 
also  be  imagined  that  Mr.  Mathews  and  myself  became  more 
formal  in  our  manners  and  intimacy  than  we  otherwise  should 
have  been,  until  the  painful  impression  gradually  subsided. 

The  scene  just  described  happened  early  in  the  year,  and  still 
the  poor  sufferer  lived  on  in  pain  and  difficulty,  such  as  only 
an  implicit  reliance  upon  the  goodness  of  Heaven  could  lend 
her  resignation  to  support.  In  May,  however,  it  will  be  seen, 
by  the  following  letter  of  her  husband  to  his  friend  in  London, 
that  hope  was  rapidly  lessening  ;  and  his  own  words  will  best 
speak  for  his  feelings,  and  the  virtues  of  her  whom  he  was 
about  to  lose,  and  will  at  the  same  time  show  his  just  appre- 
ciation of  them. 

York,  May  16th,  1802. 

Deae  Jack, — Believe  me,  I  am  much  gratified  to  find  that  you  will 
not  pass  over  an  opportunity  of  writing  to  me ;  and  that  it  is  in  my 
power  to  compliment  you  on  your  reformation  in  that  respect,  as  your 
communications  are  much  more  frequent  than  they  used  to  be.  I 
assure  you,  my  dear  friend,  that  the  sight  of  "  Dear  Stick"  is  one  of 
the  most  pleasurable  sensations  I  expei'ience,  and  such  sensations  have 
of  late  been  more  than  ever  valuable. 

I  am  in  a  most  melancholy  situation — six  months*  illness !  Poor 
Ehza !  she  still  continues  lingering — the  greatest  of  all  sufferers,  and 
one  of  the  most  patient.  She  coughs  sometimes  for  nearl}-  half  an  hour 
together,  and  this  is  succeeded  by  the  most  dreadful  sight  I  ever  saw — 
the  vomiting  of  blood.  Her  bones  are  so  nearly  through  the  skin,  that 
she  can  with  difficulty  turn  in  her  bed.  She  rises  for  about  half  an 
hour  in  the  day,  and  then  can  with  difficulty  crawl  across  the  room.  I 
have  had  the  best  advice  I  could  procure ;  but  all  the  medical  men  I 
have  employed  are  of  opinion  she  cannot  recover,  and  it  appears  to  me 
impossible  that  she  can,  for  her  lungs  must  certainly  be  very  much 


92  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

injured,  if  not  nearly  decayed.  I  assure  you  it  is  a  severe  stroke  upon 
me.  Independently  of  the  prospect  of  losing  a  valuable  and  intelligent 
companion,  the  dreadful  expenses  of  her  illness  are  nearly  the  ruin  of 
me.  You  may  judge  yourself  how  heavily  it  must  fall  on  a  country 
actor — six  months'  apothecaries'  bills,  with  the  mortifying  reflection 
that  all  such  assistance  is  in  vain.  But  this  is  a  melancholy  subject  to 
intrude  on  you  ;  you  must  excuse  my  dwelling  on  it ;  in  fact,  I  am  not 
fit  to  write.  My  mind  and  body  are  harassed.  I  have  not  had  a 
sound  night's  sleep  these  three  months. 

You  may  judge  I  was  much  flattered  at  hearing  the  opinion  of  Pope, 
It  is  indeed  valuable  to  hear  of  such  praise,  and  to  me  of  all  people. 
No  one  has  met  with  more  difficulties  than  I  have ;  but  I  have  perse- 
vered, and  when  I  find  myself  thus  spoken  of,  it  is  an  assurance  that 
my  efforts  have  not  been  in  vain.  When  I  came  here,  Wilkinson 
thought  I  never  should  make  an  actor ;  certainly  he  saw  me  frequently 
to  disadvantage.  Now  he  is  proud  of  reading  his  recantation.  He 
told  Mrs.  Chapman  (who,  by  the  by,  is  a  wonderful  favourite  here) 
that  I  was  the  most  promising  young  man  he  ever  remembered  to  have 
had — the  most  perfect  and  attentive  to  dress,  and  the  greatest  favourite 
he  has  had  for  many  years,  particularly  in  York.  "Nay,  ma'am, 
Fawcett  was  nothing  to  him"  (meaning  as  a  favourite).  This,  from 
him,  you  may  imagine,  is  highly  gratifying.  I  n)ust  tell  you  that  by 
his  desire  I  studied,  or  rather  re-stu<iied,  Falstaff;  I  have  played  it 
twice,  and  have  been  highly  complimented  by  him.  He  told  Stephen 
Kemble,  who  played  here  four  nights,  and  values  himself  much  on 
Falstaff,  that  I  played  it  better,  and  that  he  wanted  humour.  I  have 
had  the  second  best  benefit  here — 96Z.  15*.  Od.  The  manager  only 
beat  me,  and  he  had  a  great  bill — "  Cabinet,"  and  a  Harlequin  Panto- 
mime. Mine  is  a  plain  bill — "The  Beaux*  Stratagem,"  and  "The 
Lying  Valet."  Fifty  pounds  is  reckoned  a  great  house  here.  Emery, 
who  was  a  great  favourite,  never  got  so  high.  I  assure  you  I  am  most 
comfortably  situated,  and  never  expected  to  be  so  fortunate  in  the  pro- 
fession. I  have  the  first  business — first  salary — first  benefits — first 
acquaintance ;  and  never  had  an  unpleasant  word  with  the  manager,  in 
the  course  of  my  engagement.  I  have  before  apologized  to  you  for 
being  guilty  of  egotism ;  but  I  am  confident  it  is  not  unpleasant  to  you, 
and  you  are  the  only  person  to  whom  I  could  say  so  much.  Thompson's 
opinion  I  am  not  a  little  proud  of.*  I  disputed  the  point  with  him 
before  he  wrote,  about  Ollajpod's  jacket  having  the  facing,  and  that  I 
could  not  help.  I  maintain  I  dress  it  right.  Fawcett's,  from  the 
description  I  have  had  of  it,  has  nothing  but  extravagance  to  recommend 
it ;  I  dress  it  as  I  see  all  apothecaries,  in  the  cavalry  dress. 

I  was  much  disappointed  at  not  coming  to  London  in  Passion  week. 
I  had  made  up  my  mind  some  time  before,  and  nothing  but  Mrs. 

*  Benjamin  Thompson,  then  well  known  for  his  literary  and  dramatic  taste, 
and  recognised  as  the  translator  and  adapter  of  "  The  Stranger."  He  was  also 
a  person  of  great  local  influence,  so  that  his  favourable  opinion  was  worth 
obtaining. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  93 

Mathews's  dangerous  state  could  have  prevented  me  j  however,  it  was 
impossible  to  leave  her. 

Have  you  seen  Dwyer?  I  never  doubted  his  first  reception  in 
London ;  he  has  the  knack  of  striking  at  first ;  but,  as  John  Moody 
says,  "  he  canna  baud  it."  If  he  become  a  favourite  in  London,  I  shall 
think  our  York  audience  "plaguy  hard  to  please."  His  benefit  was 
only  26Z. ;  but,  to  be  sure,  that  is  not  always  a  criterion  of  estimation. 
Oh !  I  forgot  to  tell  you  that  I  have  discovered  I  am  a  famous  ventri- 
loquist— at  least,  I  have  made  the  people  believe  so,  and  that  is  pretty 
nearly  the  same  thing.  I  have  done  it  on  the  stage  in  Hull  and  York 
with  amazing  applause,  and  am  told  I  am  a  capital  artist. 

The  poems  are  finished,  and  the  printer  only  waits  for  subscribers' 
names.  Now,  my  dear  Jack,  I  think  this  long  letter  deserves  an  im- 
mediate answer.     Do  write ;  it  will  afford  rae  peculiar  consolation. 

I  am  unalterably  yours,        Ohaeles  Mathews. 

Mrs.  Mathews's  disorder  (pulmonary  consumption)  increased 
hourly,  and  her  dissolution  was  daily  expected  during  a  painful 
period  of  six  months.  Her  excessive  sufferings  were  borne  by 
her  with  an  equal  mind  throughout,  a  strong  religious  reliance, 
which  never  wavered,  supporting  her;  and  on  the  25th  of  May 
the  following  qffiche  at  the  door  of  the  theatre  announced  the 
release  of  this  amiable  young  woman  from  her  earthly  trials, 
her  illness  having  lasted  upwards  of  a  3'ear  and  a  half. 

Theatre  Royal,  Yorh. 

May  25th,  1802. 
The  sudden  death  of  Mrs.  Mathews  this  afternoon  rendering  it  im- 
possible for  Mr.  Mathews  to  perform  this  evening,  Mr.  Wilkinson  is 
under  the  absolute  necessity  of  changing  the  ppera  of  "  The  Cabinet," 
to  Mr.  Cumberland's  comedy  of  "The  Jew ;  or,  a  Peep  at  the  Human 
Heart."  The  farce,  Mr.  W.  is  in  hopes,  can  be  done  without  the 
assistance  of  Mr.  Mathews, 

Although  prepared — if  expectation  of  the  loss  of  those  we 
love  can  be  called  preparation — for  this  mournful  event,  Mr. 
Mathews  felt  as  if  he  had  never  contemplated  the  result  of 
his  wife's  illness.  The  fits  to  which  he  had  so  long  been  occa- 
sionally subject  assailed  him  with  redoubled  violence,  and  when 
he  again  appeared  amongst  us,  he  seemed  almost  as  ill  as  his 
suffering  wife  had  looked  on  the  day  of  our  distressing  inter- 
view. When  her  death  was  announced  to  me  by  a  mutual  friend, 
I  almost  reproached  myself  that  I  had  not  sacrificed  my  own 
inclinations  to  her  dying  request.  As  it  was,  the  recollection 
of  it  produced  almost  a  coldness  between  the  sad  widower  and 
myself  for  some  time  after,  though  in  a  few  months  both  seemed 
to  have  recovered  from  it,  and  an  easy  friendship  was  resumed. 


94  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

At  the  close  of  the  summer  a  very  remarkable  instance  oc- 
curred of  a  coincidence  of  dreams,  befalling  Mr.  Mathews  and 
myself,  a  circumstance  which  I  am  induced  to  relate,  since  it 
was  attested  by  witnesses  who  severally  and  apart  were  informed 
of  it,  before  the  dreamers  had  power  to  communicate  with  each 
other,  or  their  mutual  friends.*  Mr.  Mathews's  account  of  his 
impressions  was  as  follows ; — He  had  gone  to  rest,  after  a  very 
late  night's  performance  at  the  theatre,  finding  himself  too 
fatigued  to  set  up  to  his  usual  hour  to  read;  but  after 
he  was  in  bed  he  discovered — as  will  happen  when  persons 
attempt  to  sleep  before  their  accustomed  time — that  to  close  his 
ejes  was  an  impossibihty.  He  had  no  light,  nor  the  means  of 
getting  one,  all  the  family  being  in  bed  ;  but  the  night  was  not 
absolutely  dark — it  was  only  too  dark  for  the  purpose  of  read- 
ing ;  indeed,  every  object  was  visible.  Still  he  endeavoured  to 
go  to  sleep,  but  his  eyes  refused  to  close,  and  in  this  state  of 
restlessness  he  remained,  when  suddenly  a  slight  rustling,  as  if 
of  a  hasty  approach  of  something,  induced  him  to  turn  his  head 
to  that  side  of  the  bed  whence  the  noise  seemed  to  proceed; 
and  there  he  clearly  beheld  the  figure  of  his  late  wife,  "  in 
her  habit  as  she  lived,"  who,  smiling  sweetly  upon  him,  put 
forth  her  hand  as  if  to  take  his,  as  she  bent  forward.  This 
w^as  all  he  could  relate ;  for,  in  shrinking  from  the  contact  with 
the  figure  he  beheld,  he  threw  himself  out  of  bed  upon  the 
floor,  where  (the  fall  having  alarmed  his  landlord)  he  was  found 
in  one  of  those  dreadful  fits  to  which  I  have  alluded.  On  his 
recovery  from  it  he  i:elated  the  cause  of  the  accident,  and  the 
whole  of  the  following  day  he  remained  extremely  ill,  and  un- 
able to  quit  his  room. 

There  is  nothing  surprising  in  all  this ;  for,  admitting  it  not 
to  be  a  dream,  but  one  of  those  cases  called  nightmare,  so  fre- 
quently experienced  (when  the  sufferer  always  believes  himself 
under  real  influences),  it  was  not  a  case  to  excite  astonishment. 
The  circumstance  which  rendered  it  remarkable,  was  that  at 
the  exact  hour  when  this  scene  was  taking  place  at  a  remote 
distance,  a  vision  of  the  same  kind  caused  me  to  be  discovered 
precisely  in  the  same  situation.  The  same  sleepless  effect,  the 
same  cause  of  terror,  had  occasioned  me  to  seize  the  bell-rope, 
in  order  to  summon  the  people  of  the  house,  which,  giving  way 

*  Many  of  our  familiar  friends  in  London  will  remember  with  what  earnest- 
ness and  solemnity  my  husband  related  this  account  long  after  the  period  of 
its  occurrence,  when  he  thought  his  listeners  were  not  disposed  to  scoff  at  such 
details,  or  be  sceptical  of  their  truth. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  95 

at  the  moment,  I  fell  with  it  in  my  hand  upon  the  ground. 
My  impressions  of  this  visitation  (as  I  persisted  it  was)  were 
exactly  similar  to  those  of  Mr.  Mathews.  The  parties  with 
whom  we  resided  at  the  time  were  perfect  strangers  to  each 
other,  and  living  widely  apart,  and  they  recounted  severally  to 
those  about  them  the  extraordinary  dream,  for  such  I  must  call 
it,  though  my  entire  belief  will  never  be  shaken  that  I  was  as 
perfectly  awake  as  at  this  moment.  These  persons  repeated 
the  story  to  many,  before  they  were  requested  to  meet  and 
compare  accounts ;  there  could  consequently  be  no  doubt  of  the 
facts,  and  the  circumstance  became  a  matter  of  much  general 
interest  amongst  all  those  who  knew  us. 

That  the  scene  at  the  bedside  of  the  dying  woman  simulta- 
neously recurred  to  the  dreamers  when  awake  was  natural  enough, 
and  was  afterwards  confessed.  How  far  the  facts  which  I  have 
here  related  tended  to  the  serious  result  of  our  continued  in- 
timacy I  will  not  determine  ;  but  it  is  certain  that  neither  of  us 
regarded  it  as  an  impediment  at  a  future  period,  or  a  just  reason 
why  we  should  not  at  last  fulfil  the  desire  of  her  whose  wishes 
were  made  known  to  us  at  a  time  when  it  would  have  been  dis- 
creditable to  both,  had  we  supposed  ourselves  able  to  comply 
with  it  at  any  future  period  of  our  lives. 

In  the  space  of  eight  months,  Mr.  Mathews  had  been  de- 
prived of  two  of  his  dearest  ties  :  for  the  first  loss  he  was  totally 
unprepared,  and  the  shock  was  appalling  in  its  effect  upon  him  ; 
but  of  the  latter  he  had  been  mercifully  and  gradually  warned ; 
and  though  he  felt  it  deepl^^  and  sincerely,  yet  his  grief  naturally 
bore  a  milder  aspect  than  it  would  otherwise  have  done.  It 
might  be  said  that  his  wife  had  been  dead  to  him  and  the 
world  long  before  the  event  of  her  actual  dissolution.  Not- 
withstanding this,  his  own  malady,  as  I  have  said,  returned  with 
alarming  force,  for  it  always  recurred  when  mental  suffering 
existed.  He  had  several  severe  fits,  which  weakened  his  strength 
and  retarded  the  renewal  of  the  composure  of  which  he  had  so 
long  been  deprived. 

Fortunately  an  event,  as  unexpected  as  it  was  gratifying, 
occurred,  which  was  calculated  to  rouse  his  dormant  energies  and 
to  raise  his  mind  from  its  distressing  depression  and  disability. 
The  master  passion  was  again  predominant,  and  though  he  sighed 
when  he  remembered  that  she  who  would  have  so  gloried  in  his 
triumph  was  no  longer  a  participator  in  his  woe  or  weal,  yet  he 
could  not  conceal  from  himself  or  others  the  satisfaction  which 
the  offer  now  made  to  him  gave  his  pride  as  well  as  his  ambition. 


'96  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

This  offer,  "  big  with  the  fate  of"  Mathews,  shall  speak  for 
itself,  in  its  original  form. 

To  Mr.  Mathews. 

(  Theatre  Royal,  Haymarket,  14th  Sept.  1802. 

Sib, — Your  merits  as  an  actor  having  been  mentioned  to  me,  give 
me  leave  to  propose  an  engagement  to  you,  for  next  year,  in  my 
theatre.  It  is  my  intention  to  commence  the  season  positively  on  the 
15th  of  next  May,  and  to  continue  it  to  the  15th  of  the  following 
September.  Should  you  think  it  ehgible  to  embrace  the  opportunity 
which  I  now  offer  to  you,  of  performing  for  four  months  before  a 
London  audience,  I  beg  you  will  be  kind  enough  to  inform  me  on  what 
terms  you  will  give  me  your  assistance.  At  all  events,  I  shall  thank 
you  for  a  speedy  answer,  directed  to  me,  at  Mr.  Jewell's,  26,  Suffolk- 
street,  Charing-cross. 

I  am,  sir,  your  obedient  servant,         G.  Colman. 


To  George  Colman,  Esq. 

Wakefield,  September  23rd,  1802. 

Sir, — ^T  feel  much  flattered  by  the  offer  of  an  engagement  in  your 
theatre,  but  cannot  come  to  an}'  determination  on  the  subject  till  I 
understand  more  particularly  what  situation  you  propose  to  me.  I 
must  beg  leave  to  decline  mentioning  terms,  as  I  am  entirely  ignorant 
of  the  salaries  you  usually  give.  I  am  so  fortunate  as  to  be  in  great 
fame  on  this  circuit,  in  possession  of  the  first  cast  of  characters,  and 
on  the  best  of  terms  with  my  manager.  It  is  indeed  in  every  respect 
a  most  valuable  situation,  and  it  is  only  on  very  advantageous  terms 
that  I  shall  be  induced  to  quit  it.  I  most  undoubtedly  wish  to  perform 
in  London,  but  must  look  for  an  ample  compensation  for  resigning  a 
lucrative  situation  for  an  engagement  of  only  four  months. 

I  shall  be  obliged  to  you,  sir,  to  let  me  know  what  salaries  you  can 
afford  to  give,  and  if  I  accede  to  your  wishes,  what  business  will  be 
allotted  to  me.  This  is  a  very  material  consideration,  and  I  entreat 
that  you  will  be  as  explicit  as  possible.  I  have  performed  in  the  York 
theatre  the  entire  range  of  principal  low  comedy,  and  am  well  studied. 

Have  the  goodness  to  inform  me  if  at  any  part  of  the  season  any  of 
the  established  London  performers  are  to  be  engaged.  I  shall  thank 
you  for  an  answer  as  soon  as  possible.  We  leave  this  place  on 
Tuesday,  the  28th,  after  which  time  be  kind  enough  to  direct — Theatre, 
Doncaster. 

I  am,  sir,  your  obedient  servant,        Charles  Mathews. 

The  next  letter  from  Mr.  Colman  is  lost,  but  Mr.  Mathews's 
reply  will  explain  its  general  tendency. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  97 

To  George  Colman,  Esq. 

Doncaster,  Oct.  6th,  1802. 
SiE, — I  agree  with  you,  that  my  talents  are  my  own  property,  and 
that  I  have  a  rij^ht  to  put  a  price  on  them  ;  but  I  may  set  too  high  a 
value  on  those  talents,  and  incur  the  charge  of  monstrous  vanity.  You 
offer  handsomely,  yet  still  I  wish  you  had  mentioned  terms.  However, 
as  that  seems  the  only  bar  to  our  coming  to  a  final  determination,  I 
will,  rather  than  be  the  cause  of  any  farther  delay,  waive  my  objections, 
and  speak  decidedly  on  the  subject.  I  must  confess  the  style  of  your 
letter  is  so  liberal  and  gentlemanly,  that  the  desire  I  feel  to  engage 
with  you  is  increased.  With  respect  to  my  situation  here,  I  can  only 
repeat  what  1  have  already  said.  It  will  be  tedious  and  uninteresting 
to  you  to  particularize  the  many  circumstances  which  make  this  circuit 
valuable  to  me.  In  leaving  it  I  make  a  great  sacrifice,  both  as  to  profit 
and  pleasure ;  therefore,  considering  the  advantages  I  resign,  the  short- 
ness of  your  engagement,  and  the  hazard  of  remaining  out  of  a  situation 
at  the  close  of  it,  I  cannot  in  justice  to  myself  think  of  resigning  my 
present  certain  income  under  10^.  per  week.  If  your  scheme  will  afibrd 
such  a  salary,  I  am  willing  immediately  to  close  an  engagement  with 
you.     I  beg  an  answer  as  soon  as  possible. 

And  am,  sir,  your  obedient  servant,        Chaeles  Mathews. 


To  Mr.  Mathews. 

SuflFolk-street,  Oct.  8,  1802. 
SiE, — The  terms  which  you  have  proposed  are  certainly  high,  and 
perhaps  unprecedented,  for  a  performer  who  has  not  yet  felt  the  pulse 
of  a  London  audience;  but  the  reasons  stated  for  thus  fixing  your 
ultimatum  appear  to  be  founded  on  justice,  to  put  vanity  out  of  the 
question.  I  waive,  therefore,  all  mention  of  any  risk  incurred  on  my 
part,  in  my  new  speculation,  and  embrace  your  oft'er.  But  to  prevent 
all  mistakes,  permit  me  to  state  precisely  what  I  conceive  to  be  the 
engagement.  Ten  pounds  a-week  and  a  benefit,  of  which  benefit  you 
pay  the  usual  charges.  You  will  perform  from  the  15th  May  to  the 
15th  September  inclusive.  If  you  engage  in  London  after  your 
appeai-ance  with  me,  you  give  me  the  preference  in  a  re  engagement. 
If  you  think  any  short  legal  memorandum  requisite  between  us,  I  am 
willing  to  enter  into  it.  If  you  conceive  the  letters  that  pass  between 
us  as  sufficient,  I  am  quite  content  that  it  should  remain  an  agreement 
upon  honour.  Pray  send  me  two  lines  speedily,  which  will  be  con- 
clusive. I  will  (when  we  meet  in  the  summer)  do  everythhig  in  my 
power  to  contribute  to  your  reputation  with  the  public,  and  your  comfort 
in  my  theatre. 

I  am,  sir,  your  obedient  humble  servant,        G.  Colman. 

P.S. — Of  course  your  attendance  will  be  expected  in  town  a  week  or 
ten  days  (as  I  begin  with  novelties)  previously  to  the  opening  of  the 
theatre. 

H 


98  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

To  George  Colman,  Esq. 

Doncaster,  Oct.  13,  1802. 

Sir, — I  ought  to  apologise  for  neglecting  to  give  you  an  immediate 
answer,  but  I  was  absent  from  Doncaster  when  your  letter  arrived,  and 
hurr}'^  of  business  has  since  prevented  me. 

Nothing  now  remains  but  my  final  decision  for  your  satisfaction.  I 
accept  the  terms,  and  will  be  with  you  at  the  time  proposed.  On  my 
part  I  feel  perfectly  satisfied  with  the  letters  that  have  passed  between 
us,  and  am  content  it  should  remain  an  agreement  upon  honour.  I 
cannot  for  a  moment  think  of  the  necessity  for  a  legal  agreement  with 
a  man  who,  in  every  part  of  our  negotiation,  has  behaved  so  liberally. 
I  thank  you  for  your  warm  assurances  of  assistance,  and  hope  I  shall 
prove  worthy  of  your  kindness.  The  only  anxiety  I  now  feel  is  as  to 
my  appearance  before  the  awful  tribunal  of  the  metropolis.  Much 
depends  on  a  judicious  choice  of  character.  Pray  satisfy  me  (when 
you  are  at  leisure)  if  you  positively  intend  to  open  with  new  pieces. 
Original  characters  will  be  undoubtedly  desirable ;  but  it  will  be 
necessary  for  you  to  know  my  particular  forte,  and  satisfactory  to  all 
to  know  in  what  kind  of  character  you  propose  to  introduce  me.  A 
few  lines  explaining  your  intentions  on  this  subject  will  much  oblige 
me.  If  I  have  the  good  fortune  to  succeed  with  the  public,  I  feel  a 
perfect  reliance,  from  your  general  character  for  gentlemanly  conduct 
to  your  performers,  of  comfort  in  your  theatre. 

I  am,  sir,  your  obedient  servant,        Charles  Mathews. 


To  George  Colman,  JSsq.,  Theatre  Hoyal,  HaymarTcet. 

Hull,  February  14th,  1803. 
Dear  Sir, — I  have  anxiously  waited  in  expectation  of  the  pleasure 
of  a  letter  from  you.  I  much  wished  to  hear  your  further  opinion  with 
respect  to  the  characters  most  proper  to  fix  on  for  my  first  appearance. 
I  wrote  to  you  at  some  length  upon  this  subject,  which  letter  (together 
with  the  list  of  characters  in  which  I  am  studied)  I  presume  you 
received.  However,  I  should  not  have  troubled  you  again  on  this 
subject,  as  we  have  yet  good  time  to  deliberate ;  but  I  can  no  longer 
delay  mentioning  to  you  a  circumstance  of  considerable  importance  to 
myself,  and  in  which  you  may  in  some  degree  be  hereafter  interested. 
It  is,  therefore,  necessary  that  I  impart  to  you  a  secret,  which  none  of 
ray  friends  in  London  are  in  possession  of  In  all  human  probability 
before  I  leave  Yorkshire  I  shall  take  unto  myself  a  wife.  Now,  sir,  if 
you  please  you  may,  as  I  said  before,  be  interested  in  this  matter,  as  I 
write  to  you  now  to  solicit  an  engagement  for  the  lady.  As  (of  course) 
you  will  not  give  me  credit  for  impartiality,  I  shall  forbear  in  this 
letter  saying  anything  as  to  the  merits  of  the  one  in  question.  If  you 
have  any  room  for  a  second  singer  have  the  goodness  to  let  me  know, 
and  I  will  be  more  particular  in  my  next.  Her  name  is  Jackson,  a 
pupil  of  Mr.  Kelly;  she  has  supported  the  first  line  of  singing  in  the 


i 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  99 

York  company.  I  think  she  would  be  useful  if  you  have  a  vacancy,  as 
she  is  very  young,  and  her  appearance  much  in  her  favour.  I  do  not 
wish  you  to  make  any  positive  engagement  until  you  are  satisfied 
whether  she  is  worthy  your  notice.  1  make  this  early  application, 
fearing  that  if  I  delayed  it  your  arrangements  might  preclude  the 
possibility  of  offering  her  a  situation. 

If  you  think  it  possible  that  you  can  make  room  for  her,  it  will  give 
me  great  pleasure. 

I  am,  sir,  your  obedient  servant,        C.  Mathews. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  explain  that  the  announced  bride  in 
the  foregoing  letter  was  the  same  person  who  only  twelve- 
months previously,  at  the  bedside  of  her  dying  friend,  implicitly 
believed  such  an  union  impossible !  May  it  not  be,  as  Shak- 
speare  has  declared,  that  "  Marriage  comes  of  destiny  ?'*  I  am 
sometimes  disposed  to  think  so. 

To  John  Litchfield,  Esq. 

York,  Feb.  27tb,  1803. 

Deae  Jack, — Why  don't  you  write  ?  Can  you  give  me  any  infor- 
mation about  the  Haymarket  scheme  ?  Is  it  expected  to  succeed,  or 
are  we  country  actors  to  be  sacrificed  in  the  speculation  ?  If  it  fails,  I 
do  not  know  what  is  to  become  of  us.  Do  you  know  any  performers 
engaged,  that  you  have  not  given  us  in  the  Mirror  ?  Why  does 
Colman  give  his  new  comedy  to  Covent  Garden  ?  He  has  not  written 
to  me  lately.  Let  me  know,  pray  do.  If  this  does  not  provoke  him  to 
write,  I  know  not  what  will.  {Aside.) 

By  the  by,  I  have  taken  half  a  sheet  of  paper  to  write  to  you,  fearing 
to  swell  the  packet,  and  had  almost  forgot  that  I  had  something  to 
communicate  to  you  of  consequence.  Then,  to  tell  you  a  secret,  which 
I  wish  all  the  world  to  know,  I  am  going  to  be  married,  and  that  very 
shortly,  too.  Therefore  write  to  me  directly,  and  say  you  rejoice  at  it, 
and  wish  me  happy,  or  I  shall  think  you  are  no  friend  to  the  married 
state.  I  have  not  room  to  enter  into  particulars ;  but  say  with  Solus, 
"  She  is  my  choice.''  Who  ?  you'll  say.  The  first  letter  of  her  name 
is  Jackson,  of  Wilkinson's  company,  a  pupil  of  Kelly :  you  have  heard 
of  her  before.  I  shall  not  enter  into  encomiums,  as  you  will  consider 
me  partial,  and  not  think  it  good  evidence.  Besides,  I  have  neither 
time  nor  room  to  say  any  more.  Give  me  your  consent,  that  is  all  I 
ask.  Club  with  my  father  this  week  for  a  frank,  and  let  me  hear  from 
you.     "  Adieu,  thou  dreary  pile." 

,    Yours  ever  most  truly,        C.  Mathews. 


n2 


100  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


CHAPTEE  IX. 

Oeorge  Colman  at  York — Tate  Wilkinson's  reception  of  him — The  York  per- 
formers— Mr.  Colraan's  dramatic  reading — Mr.  Mathews's  second  marriage — 
Wedding  incidents — Miss  De  Camp — Mr.  Colman' s  letter  to  Mr.  Mathews — 
Parting  interview  between  Mr.  Mathews  and  Tate  Wilkinson. 

In  March  Mr.  Colman,  accompanied  by  his  son,  Captain  George 
Colman,  arrived  in  York,  probably  induced  by  an  anxiety  to  see 
the  actor  he  had  taken  upon  trust,  and  to  satisfy  himself,  as 
he  hoped  to  do,  that  his  blind  bargain  was  not  likely  to  prove  a 
lame  one. 

Here  commenced  a  friendship  between  Mr.  Colman  and  my 
husband,  which  never  suffered  a  moment's  interruption.  During 
Mr.  Colman's  stay  in  York,  he  and  his  son  supped  nightly  with 
the  young  actor  at  the  close  of  the  performance,  and  it  would 
have  been  difficult  on  these  occasions,  when  they  separated,  to 
determine  which  felt  most  pleased  with  the  other ;  so  that  when 
the  manager  returned  to  London,  he  was  prepared  to  welcome  a 
friend  whom  he  had  every  expectation  at  the  same  time  of 
establishing  as  a  favourite  with  the  town.  In  short,  he  was 
immediately  impressed  with  Mr.  Mathews's  talents  both  on  and 
off  the  stage,  and  those  who  have  experienced  the  fascination  of 
Mr.  Colman's  society  may  without  difficulty  understand  how 
completely  he  charmed  his  new  acquaintance.  Mr.  Mathews's 
application  for  an  engagement  for  his  intended  wife  was  answered 
with  cordial  kindness.  He  had  taken  his  future  manager  to  see 
the  young  lady  perform  Harriet  in  "  The  Guardian,"  and  she 
was  immediately  engaged. 

As  might  be  expected,  Mr.  Wilkinson's  gentlemanlike  feeling 
and  hospitable  habits  were  displayed  on  the  arrival  of  this  distin- 
guished visitor,  to  whom,  notwithstanding  he  came  to  rob  him 
of  his  trump  card,  he  could  not  omit  those  attentions  which  a 
resident  is  expected  to  offer  to  strangers.  Although  he  was  at 
the  time  much  more  than  usually  an  invalid,  he  requested  Mr. 
Colman  and  his  son  to  dine  with  him  every  day  during  their 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  101 

stay.  On  the  first  visit,  there  was  scarcely  more  than  a  family 
party,  Mr.  Mathews  and  Mr.  Cummins  being  the  only  persons 
invited  to  meet  them ;  and  it  was  an  early  dinner,  in  order  to 
allow  the  two  actors  time  to  dress  for  their  evening  duties.  Mr. 
Colman,  who  was  desirous  of  enlisting  some  more  recruits  for  his 
opening  campaign,  was  naturally  inquisitive  as  to  who  and  what 
he  might  expect  to  see  during  his  short  stay,  and  asked  for  the' 
bill  of  fare  for  the  evening,  this  being  his  first  opportunity  of 
seeing  the  York  performers.  He  was  told  that  the  play  was  to 
be  "  The  School  for  Scandal."  The  London  manager  was  pleased 
at  this,  and  eagerly  inquired  what  sort  of  a  Charles  they  had, 
for  at  the  time  he  wanted  a  dashing  actor  in  that  line.  His 
attention  was  directed  to  a  respectable  gentleman  who  sat  oppo- 
site to  him,  who  had  mumbled  his  dinner,  and  whose  well- 
powdered  head  had  a  cauliflower  appearance,  and  his  face  the 
visible  impress  of  sixty  winters.  "  Mr.  Cummins  is  the  Charles,^* 
said  Tate.  Mr.  Cummins  bowed  to  Mr.  Colman  with  the  pre- 
cision of  the  old  school,  in  confirmation  of  the  manager's  state- 
ment. Mr.  Colman  started,  bowed  in  return  with  an  unnatural 
grin  of  courtesy,  and  then  took  a  pinch  of  snuff  in  nervous 
haste. 

After  a  short  pause,  however,  being  desirous  to  do  away  the 
appearance  of  the  embarrassed  surprise  he  was  too  conscious  of 
having  shown,  Mr.  Colman  made  inquiries  as  to  the  ladies  of  the 
theatre.  "  Paul  and  Virginia"  was  mentioned  as  one  of  the: 
novelties  to  be  performed  in  the  course  of  his  visit,  and  he 
caught  at  this  information  in  order  to  ask  who  was  to  play; 
Virginia  (expecting,  as  he  afterwards  told  Mr.  Mathews,  that 
his  intended  wife,  to  whom  he  had  been  introduced  in  the 
morning,  would  be  named) ;  but  his  attention  was  directed  again 
to  one  of  the  party  present,  and  he  was  informed  that  "  Mrs. 
John,"  so  Mrs.  J.  Wilkinson  was  always  called,  would  personify 
the  youthful  heroine.  This  lady  was  a  bulky  matron,  who  cer- 
tainly had  once  been  young,  and  still  was  handsome.  Mr.  Col- 
man at  the  first  glance  again  started,  and  again  resorted  to  the 
friendly  aid  of  his  snuff-box,  now  fairly  thrown  off  his  balance* 
At  length,  turning  round  with  something  like  an  angry  feeling, 
in  despair  of  finding  much  rising  talent  for  his  purpose,  he 
whispered,  "  Fore  gad,  Mathews,  yours  is  a  superannuated 
company  I" 

It  was  on  this  occasion  that  we  first  had  the  delight  of  hearing' 
Mr.  Colman  read.  The  comedy  of  "John  Bull"  was  on  the 
point  of  being  "  got  up"  at  York,  and  Tate  requested  as  a  favouti 


102  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

that  the  author  would  give  the  performers  the  advantage  of  his 
instructions  in  their  several  characters,  by  reading  the  play  in 
the  green-room.  This  indeed  proved  a  treat :  those  who  were 
to  act  in  the  comedy,  and  those  who  were  not,  alike  enjoyed  it. 
It  is  for  those  only  who  have  experienced  the  delight  of  hearing 
Mr.  Colman  read  his  dramatic  productions,  to  guess  the  pleasure 
with  which  his  perfect  representation  of  every  character  was 
listened  to  by  the  performers,  proving  that  one  of  the  best 
dramatists  of  his  day  might  also  have  been  one  of  the  finest 
actors. 

The  time  now  arrived  when  Mr.  Mathews's  feelings  were  to 
be  put  to  a  very  severe  trial.  He  was  again  about  to  quit  the 
secure  present  for  a  doubtful  future  ;  the  numerous  warm  friends 
which  his  private  worth  had  drawn  about  him,  an  unprecedented 
range  of  professional  business,  and  last,  but  not  least,  the  kind, 
though  eccentric  Tate,  to  whom  he  found  himself  strongly 
attached,  and  to  whom  he  was  grateful  for  a  thousand  acts  of 
kindness  which  that  good  old  man  was  so  much  in  the  habit  of 
showing  to  the  deserving. 

Mr.  Mathews's  marriage  was  necessarily  arranged  to  take 
place  prior  to  his  leaving  York,  since  it  could  not  with  propriety 
be  deferred  till  his  arrival  in  London,  his  intended  wife  having 
no  protector  up  to  town  but  himself.  On  the  28th  of  March, 
therefore,  the  ceremony  was  solemnized  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Parker, 
at  St.  Helen's  church,  York. 

On  this  occasion  some  incidents  occurred  of  rather  an  unusual 
character.  Mr.  Denman,  already  mentioned,  was  requested  to 
act  the  part  of  father,  and,  as  it  is  called,  to  give  the  bride  away. 
Unfortunately,  he  had  been  seized  during  the  preceding  night 
with  a  severe  fit  of  gout,  but  unwilling  to  disappoint  his  friend, 
he  determined  not  to  acquaint  him  with  his  illness,  but  to  pro- 
ceed to  the  church  at  the  appointed  hour,  at  whatever  risk, 
in  a  sedan-chair,  the  obtaining  of  which  at  such  short  notice 
occasioned  a  little  delay.  In  the  meantime,  the  bride  and  bride- 
groom had,  as  arranged,  reached  the  spot  by  different  roads,  in 
order  to  give  as  little  publicity  to  the  occasion  as  possible,  for 
the  young  lady  had  discovered,  to  her  infinite  annoyance,  that 
instead  of  being  married  with  a  licence,  she  had  been  "asked" 
for  three  successive  Sundays  in  the  parish  churches  of  her  own 
and  her  future  husband's  respective  dwellings — a  process  which 
was  cautiously  kept  from  her  at  the  time.  Being  under  age,  her 
mother's  approval  was  obtained,  but  this  was  rendered  nugatory 
by  the  absence  of  her  husband  from  England,  whose  permission  the 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  J  03 

law  also  demanded.  Thus,  like  Lydia  Languish,  the  bride  elect 
had  "lived  to  be  called  spinster,^^  and  had  been  obHged  to  "ask  the 
consent  of  every  butcher  and  baker  in  the  parish"  to  her 
marriage.  It  was  settled  that  she  should  leave  home  with  a 
female  friend,  in  her  usual  walking  dress,  and  enter  at  a  private 
door  of  the  church.  Accordingly,  when  they  arrived  they  found 
the  intended  husband  waiting  to  receive  them,  with  the  brides- 
maid,* "  clad  in  robes  of  virgin  white,  who  absolutely  started  at 
the  first  view  of  her  friend's  black  silk  spencer  and  beaver  hat. 
But  the  cause  of  this  unusual  dress  was  explained  while  they 
waited  for  the  arrival  of  the  "  father"  (Mr.  Denman).  The 
clergyman  was  already  at  the  altar  preparing  for  the  ceremony, 
when  the  principal  entrance-door  was  thrown  open,  the  sedan 
admitted,  and  carried  solemnly  along  the  aisle  of  the  church,  by 
two  grave-looking  chairmen,  straight  up  to  the  foot  of  the  altar. 
The  clergyman's  looks  expressed  the  amazement  this  apparition 
naturally  created,  and  the  bridal  party  were  totally  unable  to 
account  for  it,  until  the  vehicle  was  set  down,  and  the  head  being 
thrown  back,  Mr.  Denman,  with  flanneled  ankles  and  black  cloth 
shoes,  was  lifted  up  by  the  chairmen.  His  crutches,  which  had, 
as  it  were,  been  looking  out  of  the  side- windows  of  the  sedan  as 
it  proceeded  up  the  aisle,  were  carefully  placed  under  his  arms, 
and  there  he  stood  resting  upon  them,  with  a  countenance  of 
affected  gaiety,  and,  as  if  unconscious  of  pain,  his  ample  person 
dressed  in  a  light- coloured  coat,  of  a  mixture  then  in  fashion, 
called  "pepper  and  salt."  The  rest  of  the  party  were  beckoned 
up  by  the  clerk,  and  Miss  De  Camp  promptly  advanced,  the 
bridegroom  hanging  back  with  his  intended  upon  his  arm,  in 
order  to  recover  a  little  from  the  fit  of  laughter  which  he  had 
vainly  endeavoured  to  suppress,  at  the  unexpected  sight  of  his 
friend  in  the  sedan-chair.  The  clergyman  glanced  from  Miss 
De  Camp's  juvenile  figure  to  that  of  Mr.  Denman  with  great 
severity,  as  if  he  would  have  said,  "  In  your  state,  I  think  it 
would  have  been  more  decent  to  have  deferred  the  ceremony,'* 
for  he  evidently  mistook  the  young  lady  "  all  in  white"  for  the 
bride,  she  having  previously  placed  herself  close  to  the  pepper 
and  salt  of  the  supposed  bridegroom.  He  nevertheless  prepared 
to  commence  the  service,  in  order  to  unite  the  unmatched  couple 
who  stood  forward,  when  Mr.  Mathews  thought  it  high  time  to 
assert  his  claim  upon  the  reverend  gentleman's  office,  and  after 
a  little  explanation  and  embarrassment  on  all  sides,  the  whitQ 

*  Miss  Adelaide  De  Camp,  sister  to  Mrs.  Charles  Kemble. 


104j  the  life  and  correspondence  of 

lady  and  he  of  the  sedan  took  their  proper  positions,  the  destined 
couple  stood  forward,  and  the  irrevocable  knot  was  tied. 

In  the  meantime  the  defrauded  "  public,"  who  had  got  an 
inkling  of  what  was  going  on,  resented  their  exclusion  from  the 
churc)\  by  surrounding  the  doors  just  as  the  ceremony  was  con- 
cluded, determined  to  witness  the  exit  of  the  parties.  This 
determination  the  chairmen  communicated  to  their  fare,  when 
summoned  by  the  clerk  to  remove  Mr.  Denman,  who,  though 
well  seasoned,  as  he  might  be  supposed  to  be  from  the  united 
qualities  of  his  dress,  was  nevertheless  afraid  of  the  coldness  of 
the  church  in  his  precarious  state  of  health,  and  suffered  himself 
to  be  borne  through  the  crowd  in  his  sedan,  having  first  under- 
taken to  send  a  carriage  for  the  quartette  he  left  behind,  who 
were  too  bashful  to  think  of  walking  through  the  mob  of  gazers 
assembled  to  witness  the  first  appearance  of  the  young  couple  in 
their  new  characters,  without  paying.  Mr.  Denman  was  carried 
along  amidst  shouts  of  merriment  from  the  people  collected, 
which  the  poor  gouty  man  was  obliged  to  take  in  good  part, 
affecting  good  humour  and  unconcern.  Shortly  afterwards  a 
chaise  drew  up  to  the  church-door,  and  four  "precious  souls 
agog"  scrambled  into  it  as  fast  as  they  could,  and  were  driven  one 
door  round  the  corner,  to  their  destined  shelter,  the  crowd  from 
St.  Helen's-square  and  the  private  entrance  arriving  at  the  same 
moment  to  see  them  alight. 

Thus  it  seems  as  if  one  of  the  most  serious  events  of  Mr. 
Mathews's  life  must  necessarily  be  attended  by  something 
comic. 

To  Charles  Mathews,  Esq.,  Theatre  Royal,  York. 

London,  April  30th. 

Dear  Mathews, — I  send  you  a  hasty  scrawl  to  put  your  mind  at 
ease.  I  am  most  fully  sensible  that  you  are  anxious  to  be  just  to  all 
parties ;  therefore  do  not  permit  any  qualms  of  conscience  (on  my 
account)  to  embarrass  you  while  you  are  making  your  public  bow  tp 
the  good  folks  at  York  on  the  7th  May.  The  sooner,  however,  you 
can  be  with  me,  after  that  period,  the  better  for  our  mutual  interests. 
Write  me  a  line  by  return  of  post,  to  say  if  I  may  hope  to  see  you  on 
the  10th.  We  can  settle  nothing  (relative  to  your  debut)  till  we  meet; 
and  be  assured  that  I  will  press  nothing  upon  you  that  is  repugnant  to 
your  feelings.  Make  my  compliments  to  Mrs.  Mathews.  George 
sends  his  remembrances  to  you,  and  begs  me  to  assure  you,  spite  of 
your  calumnies,  that  he  has  not  been  drunk  above  seven  nights  in  the 
week  since  we  parted  from  you  at  Tadcaster.  Adieu.  Kely  on  my 
being  warmly  interested  in  your  success  in  London. 

And  believe  me,  sincerely  yours,         G.  CoLMAN, 

P.S. — Don't  tak®  '^ff'  Suett  again  till  we  meet. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  103 

The  parting  interview  between  Tate  and  his  young  friends 
was  affecting.  The  manager  was  exceedingly  ill,  scarcely  able 
indeed  to  bear  the  presence  of  any  one ;  and  when  Mr.  Mathews 
expressed  a  hope  that  he  would  soon  be  better,  he  checked  him, 
saying,  "  Do  not  hope  it ;  it  is  unkind  to  wish  me  to  live  in 
pain,  and  unable  to  feel  enjoyment.  No,  my  children  ;  I  do  not 
wish  to  live.  I  should  like  to  stay  oyer  the  August  race-week 
to  see  my  old  friend  Fawcett,  and  hear  how  the  audience  receive 
their  former  favourite,  and  then  I  shall  be  content  to  die."* 

The  dear  old  man  then  shook  Mr.  Mathews  affectionately  by 
the  hand,  calling  back  his  "  grandchild,"  as  he  often  called  me, 
to  kiss  him  once  more,  and,  as  he  prophetically  said,  "  for  the 
last  time." 

*  It  is  remarkable  that  his  wish  was  granted  exactly  as  he  expressed  it,  as 
will  be  seen  by  a  letter  in  its  proper  place. 


K)6  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


CHAPTER  X. 

Arrival  in  London  of  Mr.  Mathews  and  his  yoting  wife — Their  reception  at  the 
paternal  home — Gloom  of  the  house — Removal  to  Manchester-street — Old 
Mr.  Mathews  listening  to  his  son's  songs  and  stories — Mr.  Mathews's  first 
appearance  in  London — Anecdote  of  Mr.  Cumberland — Letter  from  Tate 
Wilkinson — Mr.  Mathews's  success  in  *'  Love  Laughs  at  Locksmiths" — His 
Mr.  Wiggins — His  engagement  at  Liverpool — Letter  from  Mr.  Lewis — His 
prediction — Birth  of  Mr.  Mathews's  son. 

Ois"  our  arrival  in  London  in  May  I  entered  the  abode  of  my 
husband's  serious  relations  with  some  trepidation,  remembering 
their  self-congratulations  on  their  son's  first  marriage,  that  he 
had  escaped  falling  into  the  dreaded  fangs  of  one  belonging  to 
the  proscribed  class  in  which  he  had  enrolled  himself.  This 
alarm  was,  however,  speedily  dissipated  by  my  first  encounter 
with  my  husband's  family.  His  young  sister,  a  well-educated 
and  lively  girl,  immediately  became  attached  to  me.  His 
mother  also,  a  gentlewoman  in  ideas,  deportment  and  language, 
and  the  benevolent  old  man  who  might  have  suggested  to  Gold- 
smith his  "  Vicar  of  Wakefield,"  treated  me  with  great  kindness. 
According  to  my  idea  of  Parson  Adams,  Mr.  Mathews's  father 
was  a  personification  of  the  character ;  guileless  as  sensible,  he 
was  an  image  of  simplicity  and  goodness. 

The  house  had  a  very  sombre  appearance.  I  recollect  that 
my  spirit  quailed  when  I  first  entered  the  drawing-room.  The 
wainscot  everywhere  was  completely  covered  with  small  oval 
frames  of  ebony,  surrounding  engraved  portraits  of  saints — 
*'  Great  (indeed)  was  the  company  of  the  preachers."  All 
gloomy  and  dark,  they  seemed  by  their  presence  to  forbid  any 
approach  to  gaiety,  and  frowned  disapprovingly  upon  all  laughter. 
"With  the  exception  of  the  dado  of  the  room,  not  an  inch  was 
spared  by  these  worthies  for  anything  besides.  No  sinful 
mirrors  relieved  the  aching  sight ;  no  ornaments  but  those  of 
the  conventicle  met  the  eye.  Even  the  light  summer  attire  of 
youth  seemed  unnatural,  if  not  offensive,  in  such  a  place,  and 
out  of  keeping,  as  a  painter  would  have  said,  with  the  scene ; 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  107 

yet  these  worthy  people  had  no  gloom  in  their  hearts.  I  have 
often  laughed  since  with  Mr.  Mathews  at  the  recollection  of  his 
father's  gallery  of  pulpit-jjerformers,  and  amused  myself  to  see 
the  similar  propensity  in  the  son  to  collect  portraits  of  pro- 
fessional stars,  though  in  another  line. 

As  soon  as  the  opening  of  the  Haymarket  drew  near,  Mr, 
Mathews  removed  to  a  pleasant  lodging  in  Manchester-street, 
Manchester-square,  for,  of  course,  we  could  not  then  accommo- 
date our  hours  to  tho^e  of  his  father  and  mother.  We  could 
neither  have  eaten  nor  prayed  at  their  time.  During  our  stay 
with  them  we  all  knelt  down  together,  before  and  after  every 
meal,  while  old  Mr.  Mathews  pronounced  a  lengthened  prayer, 
and  before  bedtime,  of  course,  all  the  household  were  present. 

Although  we  removed  from  the  Strand,  I  was  almost  daily 
with  the  family,  and  perfectly  happy  with  them.  This  made 
my  husband  very  comfortable ;  and  his  liberal  father,  although 
he  would  not  see  his  son  act,  was  most  anxious,  "  since  he  had 
embraced  such  a  profession,"  that  he  should  prosecute  it  with  as 
much  credit  and  success  as  possible.  He  would  allow — nay, 
invite — his  son  to  give  him  "  a  taste  of  his  quality,"  and  com- 
placently listen  to  his  songs  and  stories,  now  and  then  laughing 
till  tears  poured  down  his  face ;  his  wife  was  equally  delighted. 
My  husband  had  once  drawn  from  him  his  slow  consent  to  go 
to  a  private  box  at  the  Haymarket  to  see  him  represent  Mr. 
Wiggins,  in  which  character  his  face,  when  made  up,  so  much 
resembled  that  of  his  father ;  but  somehow  at  the  eleventh  hour 
he  repented — consistency  triumphed  over  inclination — so  that 
he  never  saw  his  son  perform.  Mrs.  Mathews  would,  I  am  sure, 
have  gone ;  but,  out  of  respect  to  her  husband's  opinion,  she  and 
her  daughter  abstained  from  visiting  the  theatre. 

On  the  15th  May  Mr.  Mathews  made  his  first  appearance 
in  London  at  the  Haymarket  Theatre,  in  the  characters  of  Jahel 
in  "  The  Jew,"  and  Lingo  in  "  The  Agreeable  Surprise,"  with 
the  most  unqualified  success.*  The  account  of  his  acting,  given 
in  one  of  the  newspapers  of  the  following  day  (all  of  which 
praised  him  highly),  stated  that  when  he  was  encored  in  his 
songs  he  produced  a  laughable  alteration  in  the  last  verse  on 
repetition,  which  caused  much  merriment.  This  was  a  novelty 
then,  but  every  one  will  remember  with  what  effect  he  made 
such  variations  in  after  years  when  encored.  On  the  following 
night  their  Majesties  George  111.  and  Queen  Charlotte,  and  the 

*  He  took  his  farewell  in  York,  in  the  character  of  Proteus,  in  * '  Family 
Quarrels,"  and  Eal^h^  iu  "  Lock  and  Key." 


108  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

five  princesses  and  suite,  were  present  to  a  repetition  (by  com- 
mand) of  the  first  night's  periormances,  which  went  off  with 
increased  effect. 

The  following  is  a  characteristic  anecdote  of  the  author  of 
"  The  Jew."  Mr.  Cumberland  was  always  remarkable  for  his 
fastidious  feelings  about  the  performance  of  any  of  his  charac- 
ters ;  and  at  the  same  time  for  his  courteous  desire  to  compli- 
ment everybody  as  much  as  was  possible.  He  had  been  attracted 
by  the  novelty  of  a  play  of  his  acted  in  London  by  a  company 
made  up  entirely  of  provincial  performers,  and  at  the  dropping 
of  the  curtain  came  round  to  the  green-room,  being  desirous  to 
express  his  approbation  of  what  he  had  witnessed.  Elliston  re- 
ceived what  was  due  to  his  really  beautiful  representation  of 
Sheva;  and  the  Jabel  of  the  night  entering  the  room,  dressed 
for  the  after  piece,  was  by  Mr.  Cumberland's  desire  presented  to^ 
him.  He  delighted  the  young  comedian,  by  assuring  him  that 
the  part  had  never  been  better  played  ;  and  that  in  figure,  dress, 
and  acting,  he  was  the  very  thing  he  (the  author)  had  intended. 
"  I  wrote  the  part,  and  ought  to  know — it  was  perfect.  I  as- 
sure you,  sir,  I  never  was  more  gratified ;  but"  (with  irrepres- 
sible irritation^  "  you  spoke  so  low,  I  couldn't  hear  a  word  you 
said." 

Immediately  after  his  appearance  at  the  Haymarket  Theatre, 
Mr.  Mathews  naturally  made  his  old  manager  acquainted  with 
the  result ;  and,  in  the  plenitude  of  his  satisfaction,  described 
his  success  exultingly,  and  probably  in  very  animated  language. 
In  reply,  he  received  from  Tate  Wilkinson  the  following  letter, 
the  last  he  ever  wrote  to  him. 

Mr.  Mathews,  SaymarTcet,  London. 

Dear  Sir, — I  am  truly  pleased  at  your  success,  and  think  it  a  feather 
in  the  cap  of  the  York  company.  But  you  write  to  me  as  easily  as  if 
I  was  in  a  recovered  state :  instead  of  that,  this  is  a  violent  fatigue. 
I  had  nearly  90Z.  Monday  night,  at  Leeds ;  but  I  am  not  equal  to  be 
pleased,  or  to  eat  anything — am  worse  than  ever.  Your  letter  is  now 
before  me.  I  cannot  get  through  it ;  yet  you  write  to  me  as  if  I  was 
as  gay  as  yourself.  I  want  not  to  see  any  July  Richards  or  Octavians  :; 
not  but  tell  Mr.  Elliston  if  he  can  come  on  the  7th  Sunday  of  Trinity] 
I  shall  be  glad  to  see  him.  Tell  him  to  write  by  return.  He  can  plaji 
in  London  on  Monday,  August  12.  Have  no  strength  or  time  for  thd 
comp".     Am  wishing  good  health.  ' 

Yours  in  great  pain,        Tate  Wilkinson.* 

P.S. — This  a  great  fatigue  and  pain  to  me. 

*  Tate  Wilkinson  died  on  25tli  August,  1803. 


G-.  11.  iraiian\  fUuX. 


¥     MI  jv.  T  M  ]E  W  S  ■ 


J^CJJi'lj    JjMJiJVjLY:-  M^-    iriuUlK:^.-  A  iJliUA'KLy   u3J:L.i 


CHARLES  MATHEWS. 


y 


rdlvct  of 


■-..  ^uvvis  wiJl  sliow  the  estimation 

Mr.  Mathews's  talent,  even  at  this  early  period  of  his 

London  reputation,  was  held,  not  only  by  the  pubhc,  but  by 
tirst-rate  profesbors. 


110  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

To  Cliarles  Mathews,  Esq. 

Liverpool,  17th  August,  1803. 
Deae  Sib, — I  had  the  favour  of  your  letter,  and  am  happy  to  be 
aided  by  such  merit  as  yours.  I  have  the  book  and  music  of  "  Love 
Laughs  at  Locksmiths,"  but  will  certainly  retain  it  till  you  come  here. 
If  "Mrs.  Wiggins"  is  printed,  I  wish  you  would  desire  Mr.  Hill,  our 
copyist,  to  send  a  book  down,  and  I  will  have  it  ready  against  yoiir 
arrival. 

The  time  in  which  you  would,  be  most  desirable  to  me  would  be  on 
Friday,  the  9th  of  September,  and  the  whole  of  the  following  week, 
but  I  fear  there  is  little  chance  of  so  desirable  an  event.  On  the  19tli 
of  September  Braham  and  Storace  make  their  first  appearance,  and  I 
should  very  much  wish  you  to  be  in  most  of  their  operas — "The 
Cabinet,"  "  Castle  of  Andalusia,"  "Family  Quarrels,"  "Siege  of  Bel- 
grade," "Haunted  Tower,"  <fec.  "No  Song,"  &c.  "Grandmother," 
"  Prize,"  &c. 

With  good  wishes,  I  am,  dear  sir,  your  obedient  servant, 

W".  Tho«.  Lewis. 

It  would  be  of  essential  consequence  if  you  could  play  here  (no 
matter  in  what)  on  Saturday,  17th  of  September ;  and  perhaps  Colman 
w^ould  for  once  indulge  you  by  leaving  you  out  a  night,  which  would 
enable  you  to  do  so. 

It  is  rather  curious  that  Mr.  Lewis  predicted  that  Mr.  Ma- 
thews would  some  day  be  a  favourite  in  London,  in  the  same 
line  of  characters  which  that  great  comedian  then  sustained  in 
so  unrivalled  a  manner.  He  was  performing  his  original  part  of 
Tom  Shvffleton  in  "John  Bull,"  and  observed  to  my  husband, 
that  it  was  a  part  he  should  undertake,  adding,  "  It  is  my  opinion 
that  it  is  in  your  line,  and  when  I  am  gone,  you'll  find  it  out, 
and  be  my  successor  in  eccentric  comedy."  At  the  time  this 
was  said,  Mr.  Mathews  had  not  an  idea  that  he  could  possibly- 
present  himself  in  such  a  part,  his  acting  being  confined  to  old 
men,  countrymen,  and  quaint  low  comedy ;  he  was  in  fact  ex- 
ceedingly amused  at  such  a  prediction,  and  repeated  it  as  a  good 
jest.  In  a  few  years  afterwards,  however,  he  found  himself  sus- 
taining with  great  effect  Goldfinch,  Bover,  and  other  characters 
of  the  same  cast,  a  line  of  acting  which  he  probably  would  have 
pursued,  had  not  a  serious  accident  checked  his  efforts,  and  in 
his  own  opinion  rendered  him  altogether  unfit  for  the  drama. 

At  the  end  of  December  in  this  year,  a  letter  from  my  hus- 
band to  his  friend  Mr.  Litchfield  announced  an  event  which  it 
will  be  seen  gave  him  at  the  time  a  new  delight,  and  continued 
ever  after,  without  a  single  drawback,  to  afford  him  the  greatest 
happiness. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  Ill 

To  John  ZiUcli field,  Esq. 

Liverpool,  December  27th,  1803. 

Deab  Jack, — It  is  with  the  most  exquisite  pleasure  I  inform  you 
that  I  am  the  father  of  a  fine  boy,  at  least  so  says  the  nurse,  who  would 
fain  persuade  me  he  is  something  uncommon.  However,  both  mother 
and  child,  thank  God,  are  extremely  well,  and,  to  go  beyond  the  usual 
phrase,  better  than  could  be  expected.  My  feelings  on  this  occasion 
you  may  judge  of,  for  as  my  fear  and  anxiety  during  the  suspense  of 
yesterday  were  severe,  so  is  the  joy  I  feel  at  the  sight  of  my  child,  and 
safety  of  my  beloved  wife,  infinitely  more  delightful  than  any  other 
sensation  I  ever  experienced. 

I  am  happy  beyond  measure, — "  who  would  not  be  a  father  ?"  You 
will  perceive,  by  the  size  of  the  paper,  that  I  did  mean  to  write  a  long 
letter,  but  I  am  sure  you  will  excuse  me.  I  have  several  letters  to 
write  to-day,  you  may  suppose;  think  of  my  parental  feelings!  You 
will  allow  that  this  letter  is  written  in  a  happy  style.  I  am  much 
gratified  by  your  account  of  "  Love  laughs ;"  it  is  another  proof  of  the 
great  value  of  original  parts.  Eemember  me  most  kindly  to  Mrs. 
Litchfield. 

Yours  ever,        Chaeles  Mathews. 

Mr.  Mathews's  father  and  mother  were  highly  delighted  at 
the  birth  of  their  first  grandchild,  and  heartily  welcomed  the 
little  stranger.  As  a  postscript  to  his  daughter's  congratulations, 
the  grandfather  added  the  following  lines. 

My  dear  Chables, — Give  my  love  to  dear  Anne,  and  tell  her  I  am 
happy  at  her  safety.  I  wish,  but  not  dictate,  that  you  would  name 
the  child  either  by  your  own  name  or  mine,  or  both,  but  not  William, 
lest  it  might  excite  your  mother's  grief. 

Yours,  dear  Charles,        J.  Mathews. 

Without  hesitation  "Charles  James"  was  decided  upon,  and 
the  tiny  possessor  of  these  names  was  promised  to  the  church,  if 
he  inclined  to  that  profession  on  attaining  an  age  to  choose  for 
himself.  The  announcement  of  this  intention  was  received  by 
my  husband's  parents  with  gratified  feeling,  but  with  no  rigid 
dependence  upon  an  event  which  rested  with  the  young  man 
himself,  who  was  enjoined,  through  us,  not  to  enter  upon  such  a 
profession  unwillingly  ;  his  grandfather  adding,  "  That  he  might 
be  a  good  man  without  being  a  clergyman  ;  but  to  force  him  to 
be  a  clergyman  might  tend  to  make  him  a  bad  man." 


112  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


CHAPTEE   XI. 

Re-opening  of  the  Haymarket  Theatre— Mr.  Bannister,  Jun. — Illness  of  Mr. 
Mathews's  father — First  appearance  of  Mr.  Mathews  at  Drury-lane  Theatre 
—  Mr.  Sheridan  reading  the  part  of  Sir  Peter  Teazle — *' School  for 
Friends" — Mr.  Mathews's  retentive  memory — His  introduction  to  *'  Ana- 
creon  Moore" — Mr.  Raymond's  proposal  to  Mr.  Mathews  to  turn  book- 
auctioneer. 

At  the  accustomed  period  in  1804  the  Haymarket  Theatre  re- 
opened, with  the  addition  of  Mr.  Bannister,  jun.  (as  he  was  then 
distinguished,  his  father  being  still  alive),  Mr.  Colman  having 
previously  assured  Mr.  Mathews  that  this  engagement  should 
not  interfere  with  him  ;  but  that  he  felt  it  necessary,  from  the 
general  weakness  of  his  new  company,  to  obtain  an  additional 
prop  to  support  it.  Mr.  Colman  kept  his  word ;  and,  to  prove 
that  there  was  no  falling  off  in  his  attraction  with  the  town  in 
consequence,  the  following  observations  in  one  of  the  leading 
journals  appeared  (after  the  production  of  one  of  the  novelties  of 
the  season,  "  Guilty  or  Not  Guilty  "). 

Of  the  actors,  Mathews  must  be  placed  in  the  foremost  rank.  To 
the  character  of  Triavgle  he  did  more  justice  than  any  actor  of  the 
day  could  have  done;  he  was  less  flippant  in  his  manner  than  Fawcett 
— equally  natural  with  Bannister — less  laboured  than  Munden  and 
with  a  felicity  of  countenance  that  predisposed  the  audience  to  mirth 
before  he  opened  his  lips. 

His  second  season,  indeed,  served  only  to  increase  his  popu- 
larity. He  fairly  shared  with  Mr.  Bannister  the  applause  of 
each  night ;  and  in  every  new  piece  was  pointedly  considered 
both  by  manager  and  audience. 

So  rapidly  did  Mr.  Mathews's  popularity  increase,  that  an 
offer  was  made  him  by  the  proprietors  of  Drury-lane  Theatre 
in  the  course  of  the  summer  for  the  ensuing  season.  With  all 
the  delicate  secrecy  that  the  intimation  required,  he  was  told 
that  he  was  engaged  with  the  view  of  his  becoming  the  suc- 
cessor of  Mr.  Suett,  whose  health  was  precarious,  and  the 
duration    of  whose    professional  powers  was  consequently  un- 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  113 

certain.     Mr.  Mathews  signed  an  engagement  for  himself  and 
his  wife  for  five  years. 

During   this   summer   the  health  of  Mr.  Mathews's   father 
rapidly  declined,  and  towards  its  close  he  was  so  strongly  im- 
pressed with  his  approaching  dissolution,  that  he  summoned  my 
husband  to  his  cottage  at  Whetstone.     A  most  affecting  scene 
followed.     This  good  man    felt   at   peace  within    himself;  he 
grieved  only  for  those  whom  he  saw  lamenting  at  the  thought  of 
parting   from   him.      Entertaining   a   blessed    hope   of  future 
happiness  himself,  he  desired  to  leave  all  he  loved  on  earth  in 
that    peace   and   goodwill   towards   each    other   that    he    had 
throughout    practised.      He    desired   to   read   his    will   to   his 
family,  and  to  be  assured  that  no  heart-burnings  or  discontent 
would  follow  the  distribution  of  his  estate.     It  may  be  imagined 
that  his  liberality  and  the  many  calls  of  his  brethren  precluded 
his  leaving  any  considerable  property.     He  bespoke  my  husband's 
indulgence  for  having  divided  a  certain  portion  equally  between 
him  and  his  sister.     This  might,  he  said,  be  thought  as  unjust 
as  it  was  irregular ;  but  he  appealed  to  his  son's  generosity  not 
to  consider  it  as  a  proof  of  unkindness,  but  as  a  result  of  his 
reflection   that,   as    his   daughter   was   unmarried,    and  might 
possibly  be  soon  unprotected,  upon  the  loss  of  her  mother,  who 
had  been  a  great  invalid  for  years,  she  would  require  more  than 
he  should  otherwise  have  left  her ;  while  his  son  appeared  rapidly 
rising  into  easy  circumstances,  and  probably  would  soon  find 
even  the  moiety  that  was  intended  for  him  of  little  moment.* 
It   need   not   be   added,   that    Mr.   Mathews   declared  himself 
perfectly  contented  with  his  father's  intended  disposition  of  his 
property.     After  this  the  good  old  man  seemed  to  be  better ; 
and  though  he  continued  ill,  his  son  hoped  that  the  final  blow 
might  yet  be  averted  for  a  time. 

The  autumn  arrived,  and  with  it  my  husband's  first  appear- 
ance at  Drury-lane  Theatre,  on  the  17th  of  September,  in  the 
arduous  character  of  Don  Manuel^  in  "  She  would  and  She 
would  not." 

Theatre  Royal  Drury-lane,  Sept.  17th,  1804. 

Last  night  the  lively  comedy  of  "  She  would  and  She  would  not," 
was  performed  at  this  house.  The  chief  novelty  was  the  entree  of  Mr. 
Mathews  in  the  part  of  Don  Manuel.  After  gaining  a  high  degree  of 
provincial  reputation,  this  gentleman  was  engaged  by  Mr.  Col  man,  and 
has  acted  with  great  applause  for  two  seasons  at  the  Hay  market.  He 
is  certainly  well  entitled  to  a  situation  at  one  of  the  winter  theatres. 

•  This  moiety  my  husband  never  claimed. 

I 


114  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

'I'esty,  fond,  doting  old  men,  starved  lacqueys,  starch  sectarians,  and 
divers  other  eccentric  characters,  find  in  him  a  very  humorous  repre- 
sentative. He  has  the  rare  merit  among  comedians  of  this  cast,  always 
to  be  consistent  with  his  assumed  character.  If  he  be  a  Quaker,  he 
does  not  smoke  his  own  primness.  If  he  act  the  hoary  lover,  he  does 
not  seem  sensible  that  he  is  making  himself  ridiculous.  He  is  perfectly 
free  from  grimace  and  extravagance.  He  chose  Don  Manuel  very 
judiciously  for  his  debut  on  these  boards,  as  it  affords  ample  scope  for  a 
display  of  his  peculiar  powers.  He  went  through  the  part  very  suc- 
cessfully, but  was  more  particularly  happy  in  the  scene  when  he  thinks 
that  all  his  cares  are  over  by  the  marriage  of  his  daughter  with  the 
pretended  Don  Philip.  The  manner  in  which  he  dandled  his  pocket- 
handkerchief,  as  his  future  grandson  to  spring  from  the  union  of  the 
two  females,  convulsed  the  audience  for  several  minutes.  His  reception 
was  flattering  in  the  extreme. 

The  melancholy  event  of  his  father's  death  precluding  a 
second  appearance  in  the  character  which  he  pla3^ed  the  first 
night,  Mr.  Mathews  was  compelled  to  perform,  on  the  11th  of 
October,  Sir  Feter  Teazle,  in  "  The  School  for  Scandal ;"  for 
little  leisure  was  allowed  to  him  for  the  indulgence  of  sorrow — 
an  actor's  private  feelings  (happily  perhaps)  are  required  to  be 
merged  in  his  public  duties.  Sheridan's*  celebrated  comedy 
was  to  introduce  to  the  town  that  charming  actress,  Miss 
Dun  can, t  from  the  Theatre  Royal,  York,  in  Lady  Teazle.  Mr. 
Sheridan,  then  proprietor  of  Drury-lane  Theatre,  expressed  his 
desire  to  Mr.  Mathews  that  he  would  allow  the  author  to  read 
the  character  to  him,  and  give  his  idea  of  the  manner  he,  Mr. 
Sheridan,  thought  that  Sir  Feter  should  be  acted. 

Mr.  Mathews  had  many  misgivings  on  this  subject,  and  most 
embarrassing  it  proved  in  the  result ;  for  so  totally  unlike  was 
Mr.  Sheridan's  reading  of  the  character  from  every  other  con- 
ception of  it,  that  it  was  next  to  impossible  for  the  actor  to 
adopt  any  one  of  his  suggestions.  Had  it  not  been  known  that 
Mr.  Sheridan  was  the  author  of  the  play,  it  would  have  been 

*  Richard  Brinsley  Sheridan,  statesman,  wit,  and  dramatist,  born  in  Dublin 
in  1751,  and  educated  at  Harrow,  author  of  "  The  Rivals,"  *'  The  Duenna," 
*'  The  Trip  to  Scarborough,"  "  The  Critic,"  and  "  The  School  for  Scandal," 
the  two  last  being  pronounced  by  Lord  Byron  to  be  respectively  the  best  farce 
and  the  best  comedy  ever  produced  on  the  English  stage.  Sat  in  Parliament 
as  member  for  Stafford,  Westminster,  and  Ilchester.  He  was  a  most  gifted 
orator,  and  his  speeches  on  the  trial  of  Warren  Hastings  are  still  quoted  as 
models  of  eloquence.  Dissipation  and  extravagance  brought  him  to  ruin,  and 
he  died  in  debt  and  misery  in  1816. 

t  Afterwards  Mrs.  Davison,  a  most  admirable  actress  and  excellent  woman, 
who  died  during  the  past  year. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  115 

difficult  to  credit  his  acquaintance  with  the  part  in  question. 
The  consequence  may  be  anticipated.  When  the  night  came, 
Mr.  Sheridan  was  dissatisfied  with  Mr.  Mathews's  performance 
(as  it  was  said  in  the  green-room  he  had  been  with  every  pre- 
vious representative  of  it,  including  King  the  original),  and 
after  the  second  night  Mr.  Wroughton  resumed  the  part,  taken 
from  him  by  Mr.  Sheridan's  desire,  and  given  to  Mr.  Mathews. 
Mr.  Sheridan  grumbled  with  Mr.  Wroughton's  performance 
when  the  play  ended  as  much  as  he  had  done  at  that  of  Mr. 
Mathews.  Notwithstanding  this  vexation,  all  went  on  smoothly 
when  it  was  over;  and  Mr.  Sheridan,  in  every  instance  but 
where  the  feelings  of  authorship  misled  him,  was  a  great 
admirer  of  Mr.  Mathews,  and  courted  his  society  to  the  end  of 
his  life. 

It  was  not  to  be  expected  that  Mr.  Mathews  could  be  con- 
stantly employed  at  Drury-lane,  for  Mr.  Suett  still  lived,  and 
Mr.  Bannister  engrossed  almost  every  character  that  was  suit- 
able for  the  young  actor.  He  was  content  to  wait  "his  hour," 
and  good-humouredly  did  his  best  with  the  worst  that  was 
offered  to  him.  A  new  comedy,  written  by  Miss  Chambers, 
called  "  The  School  for  Friends,"  was  about  this  time  put  in 
rehearsal,  and  at  length  advertised  for  a  certain  night,  but  had 
been  postponed  from  time  to  time  on  account  of  Mr.  Bannister's 
protracted  indisposition,  who,  from  increased  illness,  at  the 
eleventh  hour  failed  them.  Mr.  Mathews  was  requested  to 
study  the  part  (a  very  long  one)  thus  resigned  by  Mr.  Bannister, 
and,  to  the  surprise  of  the  manager,  undertook  to  be  ready  by 
the  following  evening,  for  which  purpose  he  remained  up  all 
night,  and  went  the  next  morning  to  his  single  rehearsal  perfect 
to  a  letter.  The  surprise  of  everybody  was  great,  for  he  could 
not  even  be  suspected  of  knowing  anything  of  the  play,  not 
having  seen  any  part  of  it  till  his  task  was  given  to  him.* 

Mr.  Mathews's  study  was  always  remarkably  quick,  and,  con- 
trary to  the  general  result  in  such  cases,  his  retention  of  what 
he  had  learnt  was  as  remarkable  as  his  rapidity  in  acquiring  it. 
I  have  known  him,  without  referring  to  the  book,  perform  a 
character  which  he  had  neither  acted  nor  read  for  fifteen  years. 

On  one  occasion  he  undertook,  at  the  English  Opera-house, 
to  perform  his  previous  entertainments  successively  during  the 
season.     One  night,  not  having  looked  at  the  bill,  he  totally 

*  Matthew  Daw  was  a  Quaker,  and  his  performance  of  the  character  was  a 
great  favourite  with  the  town  throughout  the  run  of  the  play. 

i2 


116  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

forgot,  at  the  very  instant  he  was  about  to  commence  at  the 
table,  what  he  had  advertised  himself  for  that  night,  and,  after 
a  moment's  embarrassment,  he  left  the  stage  in  order  to  ascertain 
which  of  his  performances  he  was  expected  to  deliver.  Having 
inquired,  he  immediately  returned,  and  proceeded  without  the 
slightest  difficulty  to  the  end. 

In  his  "  At  Homes,"  although  they  were  partially  derived 
from  his  own  observations,  3'et  not  only  the  links  to  the  cha- 
racters, but  certain  matters  supplied  by  his  authors  from  their 
own  fancy,  required  much  study  ;  yet,  during  the  sixteen  years 
that  he  presented  himself  in  successive  seasons  at  that  table,  he 
never  had  a  prompter,  nor  ever  once  took  with  him  to  the 
theatre  a  single  memorandum  or  note  of  the  night's  entertain- 
ment. Even  while  acting  in  the  regular  drama  he  could  never 
bear  to  be  prompted,  and  any  attempt  to  do  so  would  have  in- 
creased his  embarrassment  had  he  been  imperfect.  I  remember 
an  instance  in  proof  of  this.  Early  in  his  London  engagement 
at  the  Haymarket  he  had  to  perform  Caleb  Quotem,  in  "  The 
Wags  of  Windsor."  On  his  first  appearance  on  the  stage, 
instead  of  the  usual  address,  he  bowed  to  Mr.  Farley,  who  per- 
formed Captain  Beaugard^  and,  after  a  minute's  pause,  said  to 
him,  "  My  name,  sir,  is  Lingo.'"  Mr.  Farley,  quite  thrown  off 
his  guard  by  this  extraordinary  lapse  in  the  actor's  memory, 
exclaimed  quickly,  "  The  devil  it  is!"  The  audience  laughed, 
and  Mr.  Mathews  was  in  his  turn  puzzled.  The  prompter  and 
the  performers  endeavoured  to  convey  the  right  speech ;  but 
they  tried  in  vain  to  "  give  him  the  word,"  as  it  is  called.  He 
could  not  profit  by  their  efforts,  and  was  altogether  at  a  loss. 
At  length  his  own  recollection  returned,  and  he  proceeded  with 
his  usual  volubility  and  correctness.  As  Mr.  Mathews  never 
was  in  the  most  trifling  degree  addicted  to  the  poisoned  cup, 
this  was  remarkable.  He  could  never  account  for  it,  for  he  was 
not  at  all  in  a  nervous  state,  and  this  was  the  only  occasion 
upon  which  such  an  accident  occurred  during  his  professional  life. 

He  never  performed  his  "  At  Homes"  so  well  when  I  was 
present,  from  the  fact  of  my  being  acquainted  in  a  general  way 
with  the  matter  he  was  delivering.  It  made  him  nervous  to  see 
anybody  listening  to  him  who  had  the  power  to  correct  a 
mistake. 

In  the  October  of  this  year  Mr.  Mathews  again  came  forward 
as  a  substitute  for  Mr.  Collins,*  who  was  taken  suddenly  ill ; 

*  A  very  clever  actor,  who  died  early.  He  was  the  original  Mode 
Duke,  in  **The  Honeymoon,"  and  previously,  Timothy  Quaint,  in  "The 
Soldier's  Daughter." 


CHAKLES  MATHEWS.  117 

and  the  part  of  Bohin,  in  "  The  Prior  Claim,"  was  announced  to 
the  audience  to  have  been  "  undertaken  by  Mr.  Mathews  from 
four  o'clock  the  same  afternoon,  witli  his  usual  alacrity." 

All  this,  however,  was  wearing  away  his  first  hopes :  and  at 
length  he  became  weary  with  waiting  only  to  take  the  place  of 
the  sick,  or  for  "  dead  men's  shoes."  Suett's  would  have  fitted 
him,  but  in  the  meantime  he  went  barefoot,  and  sorely  gravelled 
he  was  in  consequence.  He  looked  forward,  however,  to  the 
time  when  "  the  dear  little  Hay  market"  would  once  more  open 
its  merry  doors,  and  there  at  least  he  had  a  set-off  to  the  annoy- 
ance of  being  put  in  the  background  at  Drury. 

During  our  first  or  second  year  in  London  we  met  Mr.  Thomas 
Moore,  for  the  first  time,  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Raymond  the 
actor.  Mr.  Mathews  was  in  high  spirits,  and,  being  charmed 
with  Mr.  Moore,  did  all  he  could  to  render  himself  agreeable, 
in  return  for  the  pleasure  he  received.  He  was,  in  fact  (to  use 
a  phrase  he  employed  upon  such  occasions),  "  upon  his  mettle" 
before  such  a  man;  and  Mr.  Raymond,  who  dexterously  drew 
him  forth  to  great  advantage,  was  so  struck  with  his  power  and 
imagination  in  some  of  his  representations,  that  the  next  day 
he  came  to  him  with  a  project  which  he  had  formed  after  his 
guest's  departure,  suggested,  he  said,  by  the  discovery  of  the 
very  peculiar  talent  Mr.  Mathews  had  displayed.  Mr.  Eaymond 
then  proposed  to  commence  book-auctioneer,  as  far  as  capital 
went,  and  that  Mr.  Mathews  should  sell  the  works.  In  the 
event  of  his  consenting  to  the  proposal,  Mr.  Raymond  pledged 
himself  to  pay  him  500/.  annually  ;  or,  if  he  preferred  it,  to  give 
him  an  equal  share  in  the  profits  arising  from  each  sale. 

So  sanguine,  indeed,  was  the  projector  of  this  singular  specu- 
lation, that,  I  believe,  had  Mr.  Mathews  encouraged  it,  Mr. 
Raymond  would  have  doubled  the  temptation.  My  husband,  I 
remember,  urged  as  one  of  his  scruples,  that  the  moment  he 
should  be  required  to  stand  up  alone  before  a  crowd,  "  the  ob- 
served of  all  observers,"  his  confidence  and  powers  would  utterly 
forsake  him.  Little  then  did  he  anticipate  with  what  effect  he 
should  one  day,  "  singly  and  alone,"  confront  thousands  of  spec- 
tators, and  chain  them  together  for  hours  by  the  force  of  his 
extraordinary  genius. 

After  this  proposal,  a  sale  of  some  of  Mr.  King's  stage  "  pro- 
perties," as  they  are  called — namely,  his  Lord  Ogleby's  snuff- 
boxes and  cane,  with  other  dramatic  valuables,  was  proposed  in 
the  theatre  amongst  the  performers,  for  the  benefit  of  his  widow, 
when  Mr.  Mathews,  in  jest,  proposed  to  become  the  auctioneer, 


118  THE  LIFK  AND  CORBESPONDENCE  OF 

and  to  sell  them  upon  the  stage  to  his  brethren.  This  jest  was 
turned  into  earnest  by  his  being  unanimously  elected  to  the 
post.  The  chair  belonging  to  Careless^  in  "  The  School  for 
Scandal,"  was  dragged  forth,  and  the  auctioneer  pro  tern,  dis- 
posed of  the  articles  on  terms  far  exceeding  the  expected  sum, 
and  with  such  effect  upon  all  present,  that  again  poor  Mr.  Eay- 
mond's  "  soul  was  in  arms,  and  eager  for  the"  sale.  Again  he 
was  denied.     It  was  not  to  be. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  119 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Mr.  Theodore  Hook's  farce  of  "  Catch  him  who  can" — Letter  from  Mr.  Colman 
to  Mr.  Mathews — Ventriloquy — Letter  from  Mr.  Young  to  Mr.  Mathews — 
Mr.  Mathews  meets  with  a  severe  accident — His  re-appearance  at  Drury- 
lane  Theatre — Mr.  Mathews's  first  attempt  to  perform  an  "  Entertainment" 
— Mr.  James  Smith  and  his  letter — Albinia,  Countess  of  Buckinghamshire — 
Mr.  Abraham  (xoldsmidt — Mr,  Mathews's  introduction  to  the  Prince  of 
Wales — The  actors'  dinner  to  Mr.  Sheridan — Mr.  Theodore  Hook's  extempo- 
raneous singing — Letters  from  Mr.  Sheridan  and  Mr.  Colman  to  Mr. 
Mathews — "  Twig  Hall" — Mr.  Liston — Miss  Mellon  (afterwards  Duchess  of 
St.  Albans). 

In  the  course  of  this  or  the  following  season,  the  farce  of  "  Catch 
him  who  can,"  written  by  Mr.  Theodore  Hook,  for  the  purpose 
of  bringing  in  juxtaposition  the  talents  of  Mr.  Liston  and  Mr. 
Mathews,  was  produced  at  the  Haymarket  Theatre- with  suc- 
cess. 

By  the  following  letter  it  will  be  seen  that  Mr.  Mathews 
continued  on  good  terms  with  the  manager  of  the  Haymarket 
Theatre,  as  well  as  with  the  public.  I  cannot  remember  on 
what  occasion  he  first  ventured  his  ventriloquy  before  a  London 
audience  (probably  on  his  own  benefit  night),  but  it  is  evident 
that  it  was  a  successful  efTort,  and  considered  attractive  to  the 
theatre. 

26th  August,  1806. 

My  deae  Mathews, — I  am  dreadfully  gravelled  on  this  conclusion 
of  the  season  for  want  of  new  matter;  and,  as  it  is  occasioned  in  some 
measure  from  the  dulness  of  my  own  muse  (which  has  shirked  me  in 
my  efforts  to  finish  my  farce),  I  feel  that  I  owe  the  more  to  my 
partners  to  do  all  that  can  be  done  during  the  remainder  of  our  term. 
Will  you,  under  these  circumstances,  repeat  your  ventriloquy  on 
Saturday  ?  As  I  am  thrown  out  of  the  intended  play,  it  will  be  of 
service. 

Truly  yours,        G.  Colman. 
■     To  Charles  Mathews,  Esq. 

Anxious  as  my  husband  had  long  been  to  get  his  friend  Mr. 
Young  once  more  side  by  side  with  him,  he  was  nevertheless 


120  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

thwarted  in  all  his  hopes.  Mr.  Young  married,  soon  after  we 
left  him  at  Liverpool,  a  lovely,  amiable,  and  accomplished  crea- 
ture (Miss  Julia  Grimani).  This  lady  died  ten  months  after 
their  union,  leaving  a  newly-born  infant,  at  once  to  point  out  to 
her  husband  the  cause  of  his  sorrow,  and,  after  a  time,  to  prove 
an  alleviation  to  it.  At  length  we  had  the  pleasure  of  perceiv- 
ing that  our  friend  had  so  far  regained  his  natural  buoyancy 
as  to  feel  once  more  a  lively  interest  in  his  profession,  and  to 
look  upon  his  child's  welfare  as  a  source  of  future  consolation. 

Soon  after  this,  Mr.  Young  finally  came  to  terms  for  the  en- 
suing season  with  Mr.  Colman,  and  made  his  first  appearance  in 
London  at  the  Haymarket  Theatre,  in  "  Hamlet,"  with  a  suc- 
cess which  his  subsequent  career  justified. 

During  the  Drury-lane  season  of  this  year,  Mr.  Mathews  met 
with  an  accident  at  a  match  of  pigeon-shooting ;  an  amusement 
of  which  he  often  partook  as  an  excuse,  I  verily  believe,  for 
spending  the  day  out  of  town  ;  the  sport  always  taking  place  on 
Barnet  Common,  the  neighbourhood  of  his  early  pleasures  and 
most  endeared  associations.  The  accident  was  thus  announced 
in  the  newspapers  : — 

We  are  sorry  to  hear  that  Mr.  Mathews,  the  actor,  has  severely 
suffered  by  the  bursting  of  a  fowling-piece  on  Friday  afternoon,  when 
he  was  tempted  to  engage  in  a  match  at  pigeon-shooting,  near  Barnet. 
His  left  hand  has  been  much  injured  by  this  unfortunate  accident,  and 
his  whole  frame  has  received  a  very  severe  shock.  A  similar  accident 
xiccurred  a  few  years  ago  to  Mr.  Bannister. 

He  returned  home  at  eleven  o'clock  at  night,  with  his  arm  in 
a  sling,  and  though  he  was  obliged  to  own  that  he  had  hurt  his 
hand  during  the  day's  amusement,  I  was  not  aware  till  the  next 
morning,  when  the  surgeon  who  had  attended  him  immediately 
after  the  accident  came  to  dress  it,  that  anything  serious  had 
occurred.  He  would  not  distress  me,  and  in  order  that  his  pallid 
face  might  not  shock  me,  he  had  walked  for  a  short  time  in  the 
street  where  we  lived,  imitating  a  mail-coach  horn ;  his  usual 
manner  of  announcing  his  safe  return  home  after  a  short  ab- 
-sence,  if  at  a  time  and  place  where  he  could  do  it  without  being 
observed. 

This  accident  proved  very  severe,  and  he  remained  under  the 
surgeon's  care  longer  than  was  at  first  expected.  A  new  comedy 
by  Mr.  Kenney,  then  in  preparation,  in  which  Mr.  Mathews  was 
required  to  perform  a  principal  part,  was  in  consequence  post- 
poned. At  this  time,  while  he  was  recovering  from  his  accident, 
apiece  called  "The  Blind  Boy"  had  made  its  appearance  at 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  121 

Covent  Garden,  with  great  eclat,  and  he  felt  very  desirous  of 
seeing  it ;  but,  as  there  would  have  been  an  obvious  impropriety 
in  being  seen  at  a  public  place  while  he  was  supposed  to  be,  and 
was  in  reality,  unable  to  act  (for,  although  he  was  quite  well  in 
other  respects,  he  was  unable  yet  to  take  l4,is  hand  out  of  a  sling), 
he  determined  to  pay  to  the  pit,  beheving  that  in  such  a 
dense  mass  of  people  he  should  escape  particular  notice ;  and 
he  soon  felt  satisfied  by  observing  all  about  him  apparently 
strangers  to  his  person.  In  fact,  he  was  seated  among  persons, 
tradesmen  as  they  seemed,  deeply  intent  upon  the  object  of  their 
visit,  and  utterly  unobservant  of  anything  but  the  stage.  One 
of  these  professed  total  ignorance  of  all  the  performers,  and 
threw  himself  upon  a  better-informed  neighbour  for  intelligence  ; 
so  that,  whenever  a  fresh  face  appeared,  he  applied  for  informa- 
tion.    "  Who  is  that?"  he  would  say;  and  as  surely  would  he 

to  whom  the  question  was  put  answer  confidently,  Mr. ,  or 

Miss ,  being  always  wrong  in  the  name  he  gave.      This 

"  learned  Theban"  was  a  sort  of  animal  who  deemed  anything 
better  than  to  confess  himself  ignorant  upon  any  point ;  there- 
fore, he  continued  to  misinform  his  simple  and  confiding  friend, 
who  was  satisfied  at  the  close  of  the  play  that  he  had  been 
gratified  by  the  performance  of  Mr.  Fawcett  in  Hamlet,  Mr. 
Kemble  in  Rosencrantz,  Simmonds  in  the  Ghost,  Cooke  in  Folo- 
nius,  and  Mrs.  Siddons  as  Ophelia,  &c.  All  this  had  fidgeted 
Mr.  Mathews  throughout  the  play  very  much,  and  nothing  but 
his  desire  to  remain  unnoticed  prevented  him  from  setting  his 
neighbour  right.  At  last  the  afterpiece  began,  and  he  was 
obliged  to  hear  Miss  De  Camp,  in  the  JBoi/,  called  Charles  Kemble  ; 
Miss  Norton,  Mrs.  Davenport ;  Fawcett,  Emery ;  and  Liston, 
Dignum ;  and  so  on.  This,  too,  he  bore ;  but  at  last  he  was 
touched  to  the  quick  by  hearing  his  own  name  given  to  some 
subordinate  person  in  the  theatre ;  and  in  an  evil'  moment  he 
observed  with  annoyance,  pretty  visible  to  his  neighbour,  "  No, 

no,  sir,  not  Mathews,  that  is  Mr.  ."     The  man  turned 

short  round  at  this  correction,  somewhat  impatiently,  and  looked 
his  corrector  in  the  face,  as  if  with  an  intention  of  out-facing 
his  assertion ;  but  in  a  moment  his  sternness  relaxed — his  per- 
tinacity vanished — his  compressed  lips  distended  into  a  smile  of 
awakened  recollection,  and  with  a  significant  blink  of  his  eye 
he  said,  "  Why,  you  are  Mathews !  I  knowed  you  the  mo- 
ment you  spoke,  by  your  wry  mouth !"  Indeed,  it  soon  became 
difficult  for  him  to  move  anywhere  without  being  recognised. 
.In  proportion  as  he  became  known,  his  natui-al  shyness  increased, 


122  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE   OP 

and  his  dislike  of  being  noticed  in  public  out  of  his  profession, 
or  by  strangers,  was  always  a  serious  drawback  to  his  enjoy- 
ment. 

In  the  course  of  this  winter,  1808,  Mr.  Mathews  conceived 
the  idea  of  performing  "  An  Entertainment ;"  yet,  doubting  the 
])ossibility  of  one  pair  of  lungs  being  able  to  furnish  strength 
sufficient  for  three  consecutive  hours'  exertion,  "  the  occasional 
assistance  of  Mrs.  Mathews  in  the  vocal  department"  was  called 
in  as  a  make-weight ;  and,  as  the  entertainment  was  only  in- 
tended to  be  represented  in  Yorkshire,  where  I  had  been  always 
received  with  partiality,  such  an  auxiliary  was  not>  altogether 
insignificant  to  the  end  desired. 

Our  friend  Mr.  James  Smith  kindly  undertook  to  write  some 
songs  suitable  to  Mr.  Mathews's  pecuHar  powers,  and  to  link 
together  certain  descriptions,  which  he  had  heard  him  give,  of 
eccentric  characters,  manners,  and  ventriloquy.  So  excellent 
was  the  whole  that  it  proved  brilliantly  successful,  and  this  first 
effort  of  actor  and  author,  after  ten  years,  became  the  foundation 
of  that  extraordinary  series  of  "  At  Homes"  upon  which  my 
husband's  great  professional  reputation  was  perfected.  Amongst 
the  songs,  "The  Mail  Coach"  and  "  Bartholomew  Fair,"  which 
Mr.  Mathews  afterwards  sung  till  all  playgoers  were  familiar 
with  them,  were  the  most  popular ;  and,  though  introduced  so 
long  ago  and  on  every  possible  occasion,  they  were  as  full  of 
point  and  attraction  in  the  year  1818  as  if  then  heard  for  the 
first  time. 

As  this  entertainment  was  so  important  in  my  husband's 
theatrical  career,  I  will  annex  the  first  bill  ever  published  of 
*'The  Maa  Coach  Adventures." 

By  permission  of  the  Right  Worshipful  the  Mayor. 
Theatre  Royal,  Hull. 

On  Wednesday  evening,  April  12th,  1808,  Mr,  and  Mrs.  Mathews, 
of  the  Theatre  Royal,  Drury-lane.  Mr.  Mathews  (with  the  occasional 
assistance  of  Mrs.  Mathews  in  the  vocal  department)  will  exhibit  an 
entire  "  New  Entertainment,"  consisting  of  recitations,  songs,  imi- 
tations, ventriloquy,  &c.,  entitled 

"the  mail  COACH;  OE,  EAMBLES  IN  YORKSHIRE." 

Part  First. — Recitation  :  Introductory  address ;  general  improve- 
ment in  the  conveyance  of  live  lumber,  as  exemplified  in  the  progress 
of  heavy  coach,  light  coach,  and  mail;  whimsical  description  of  an 
expedition  to  Brentford.  Song :  "  Mail  Coach."  Recitation :  De- 
scription  of  the  Passengers,   lisping   lady,  Frenchman  and  critic  in 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  123 

black.  Song :  "  Twenty-four  Lord  Mayors'  Shows."  Recitation : 
Breaking  of  a  spring ;  passengers  at  Higiigate. ;  the  literary  butcher, 
Socrates  in  the  shambles  ;  learning  better  than  house  or  land.  Song  : 
"  William  and  Jonathan."  Recitation :  Definition  of  "  Les  Belles 
Lettres;"  French  poets;  rhyming  defended.  Song:  Cobbler  a  la 
Fran^oise."  Theatrical  criticism :  Dimensions  of  Drury-lane  stage ; 
critic  put  to  flight  by  two  puns ;  imitation  of  an  election  orator ; 
scramble  at  supper ,  drunken  farmer;  cross  readings.  Song:  *' Lodg- 
ings for  Single  Gentlemen."  Recitation  :  Wandering  patentee  ;  Mrs. 
Mathews's  introductory  address.  Song:  "Mrs.  Mathews."  Reci- 
tation :  Dialogue ;  Mrs.  M.  and  Nicky  Numskull ;  duett ;  harmony 
and  discord  (from  Music  Mad).  Song :  "  The  Yorkshire  Beauty,  or 
the  Misfortune  of  being  handsome." 

Between  the  first  and  second  parts.  Shield's  celebrated  song  of 
"  Heigho,"  by  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Part  Second. — Recitation  :  Digression  on  the  study  of  the  law ; 
whimsical  trial ;  Goody  Grim  versus  Lapstone ;  cross-examination  of  a 
pig.  Song  :  "  The  Assizes."  Recitation  :  Quaker's  tour  to  Gretna ; 
imitation  of  an  idiot  catching  a  fly.  Song:  Mrs.  Mathews,  "Poor 
Idiot  Boy."  Recitation  and  song :  "  Gamut  and  Quashee,  or  Panto- 
mime better  than  Speech."  Recitation  :  Justice  deaf;  imitation  of 
"  Fond  Barney ;"  highway  robberies ;  Quaker's  precaution ;  Capt.  Mac 
Jumble  from  Tipperary,  his  history.  Song :  "  Whiskey  and  Gun- 
powder." Ventriloquy,  or  Little  Tommy.  Song:  Mrs.  M.  "The 
Tuneful  Lark."  Recitation;  Mac  Jumble's  Amours;  Quakers  over- 
taken ;  ostler's  soliloquy.  Song :  "  The  Exciseman."  Recitation  :  A 
bull ;  mountebank's  harangue.  Song :  "  Quack  Doctor."  Recitation : 
A  French  Irishman ;  unexpected  discovery;  a  battle;  spider  and  spy ; 
description  of  a  fair ;  Mr.  Punch  ;  Yorkshire  giant ;  wild-beast  man. 
Song :  "  Bartholomew  Pair."  Recitation :  Bull  the  second ;  York 
Minster;  arrival  at  York;  journey  ends.  Imitations  of  some  of  the 
principal  London  performers : — Mr.  Kemble,  Mr.  Lewis,  Mr.  Bannister, 
Mr.  Kelly,  Mr.  Cooke,  Mr.  Fawcett,  Mr.  Incledon,  Mr.  King,  Mr. 
Munden,  Mr.  Blanchard,  Mr.  Brahara,  and  the  late  Mr.  Suett.  Con- 
cluding Address. 

How  deeply  indebted  my  husband  considered  himself  to  Mr. 
Smith  for  connecting  and  applying  in  so  masterly  a  manner  the 
matter  which  was  before  him,  and  for  the  humorous  songs, 
written  so  admirably  to  display  the  original  powers  of  the 
singer,  may  be  imagined.  "  The  Mail  Coach"  and  "  Bartholomew 
Fair"  were  the  first  of  their  class,  and  might  be  said,  like  the 
two  bags  of  gold,  to  be  the  fruitful  parents  of  many  more,  well 
•known  to  the  public  as  belonging  pecuharly  to  Mr.  Mathews. 

For  this  invaluable  service  Mr.  Smith  declined  anything  like 
payment,  and  would  at  length  only  allow  my  husband  to  present 
him  with  some  trivial  remembrance.     Mr.  Smith's  acknowledg- 


124  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

ttient  of  this  trifle  offers  so  agreeable  an  evidence  of  his  liberal 
feelings,  and  his  friendship  for  my  husband,  that  I  cannot  resist 
inserting  it  here. 

Basinghall-street,  July  8th,  1808. 

Many  thanks,  my  dear  sir,  for  your  present.  Your  kindness  has  • 
caused  you  to  overrate  my  poor  abilities;  though  you  do  no  more  than 
justice  to  the  alacrity  with  which  I  endeavoured  to  serve  one  for  whose 
private  worth  and  professional  talents  I  entertain  so  high  an  esteem. 
I  barely  supplied  the  outline,  your  imitative  skill  supplied  the  colouring 
and  finish. 

Had  I  leisure  for  the  undertaking,  I  certainly  should  endeavour  to 
exhibit  your  powers  in  a  more  dramatic  form,  and  transplant  my  weak 
pen  from  the  lecture-room  to  the  stage ;  but  other  avocations  prevent 
such  an  attempt. 

It  is  rather  a  novel  case,  that  the  "  pursuit  of  the  law"  should  save 
a  man  from  damnation. 

With  best  compliments  to  Mrs.  Mathews,  believe  me, 

Dear  sir,  very  truly  yours,        James  Smith. 

To  Charles  Mathews,  Esq. 

At  this  early  period  Mr.  Mathews's  peculiar  powers  in  private 
life  were  talked  of,  and  he  was  sought  by  all  party-giving  ladies 
and  lion-providers.  Innumerable  were  the  applications  "  to 
know  Mr.  Mathews's  terms  for  an  evening,"  and  to  beg  his 
company,  every  one  of  which  drew  from  him  a  refusal  to  visit 
the  person  so  applying  on  any  terms. 

Albinia,  Countess  of  Buckinghamshire,  was  one  of  his  ad- 
mirers, who  almost  persecuted  him,  and  he  tried  all  possible 
means  to  check  her  wish  to  lionize  him  on  all  occasions.  In  so 
many  unpleasant  situations,  indeed,  did  she  place  him,  that  at 
last  he  determined  to  decline  the  next  invitation,  and  wrote  a 
■note  excusing  himself  on  the  plea  that  his  health  did  not  admit 
of  any  exertion  out  of  his  profession.  Lady  Buckinghamshire 
was,  as  he  expected,  much  offended,  and  in  a  neat  equivoque 
made  him  understand  that  she  was  not  deceived  by  his  excuse. 
Her  reply  was  briefly — "  Lady  Buckinghamshire's  compliments 
to  Mr.  Mathews,  and  is  very  sorry  to  find  him  so  indifferent." 

About  this  period  Mr.  Mathews  first  saw  the  Prince  of  Wales 
at  a  fete  given  to  his  Eoyal  Highness  by  Mr.  Abraham  Grold- 
smidt,  at  Merton.  My  husband  at  first  hesitated  to  accept  the 
invitation,  and  for  some  time  balanced  between  his  desire  to 
meet  the  great  personage  he  much  wished  to  see,  and  the  fear 
that  he  might  be  asked  for  the  purpose,  when  there,  of  con- 
tributing towards  his  entertainment.  He  consulted  Mr.  Braham, 
who  removed  his  fears,  telling  him  that  he  believed  Mr.Goldsmidfc 


CHAELES  MATHEWS.  125 

invited  him  because  he  had  met  him  at  his  brother's,  Mr. 
Benjamin  Goldsmidt  (to  whose  family  Mr.  Mathews  was  much 
attached),  and  out  of  respect  to  his  private  as  well  as  professional 
character.  The  invitation  was  therefore  accepted,  and  no  indi- 
cation was  given  of  any  such  design  as  my  husband  had  at  first 
suspected.  At  supper  he  managed  to  sit  next  to  Mr.  Braham 
at  a  table  remote  from  that  at  which  the  Prince  sat,  and  where 
several  of  his  familiar  friends  were  also  assembled.  All  appre- 
hensions of  any  annoyance  having  long  before  subsided,  he  was 
cheerfully  enjoying  himself  with  his  friends,  when  he  felt  a  tap 
upon  his  shoulder,  and  received  the  next  moment  an  intimation 
in  the  following  form  from  his  host :  "  Mr.  Mathews,  you  must 
go  with  me  to  the  other  table;  the  Prince  wants  you."  To  this 
curious  mode  of  address  my  husband  replied,  "  Impossible,  Mr. 
Goldsmidt ;  I  cannot  think  of  going."  "  Bat,"  added  his  host, 
"  he  has  asked  for  you ;  you  must  go,"  meaning  to  say,  "  eti- 
quette requires  you  to  obey  the  command  of  royalty."  Poor 
Mr.  Mathews  sickened  at  the  thought,  and  appealed  to  Braham, 
who  gravely  filled  up  the  measure  of  his  discontent  by  coolly 
replying,  "  You  must  go."  Accordingly,  away  he  went  with 
his  host,  who  left  him  near  the  table  where  the  ro3^al  guest  was 
seated^  He  was  hesitating  what  to  do  (for  there  was  no  vacant 
seat),  when  Mr.  Goldsmidt  rejoined  him,  and  with  less  delicacy 
than  eagerness  to  gratify  his  Boyal  Highness,  called  out  aloud, 
"  Mr.  Mathews,  Mr.  Mathews,  stand  opposite  the  Prince — stand 
opposite  ;  the  Prince  wants  to  look  at  you  !"  His  Royal  High- 
ness seemed  quite  shocked  at  this  rather  coarse  version  of  his 
desire,  and  did  not  at  the  moment  forget  that  he  was  England's 
gentleman,  for,  with  a  hurried  and  even  embarrassed  manner,  he 
said,  as  he  bent  forward  across  the  table,  "  I  am  very  happy  to 
be  introduced  to  you,  Mr.  Mathews,  but  there's  no  seat  on  that 
side."  The  Prince  then  turned  to  Mr.  Sheridan,  who  was  next 
him,  and  said,  "  Sheridan,  can't  we  make  a  seat  for  Mathews 
between  us  ?"  at  the  same  time  contracting  his  own  and  making 
a  space,  he  pressed  my  husband  between  himself  and  Mr. 
Sheridan.  This  was  an  histance  of  good-hearted  politeness  to 
the  person  he  had  been  the  means  of  distressing  which  endeared 
him  to  Mr.  Mathews  ever  after.  The  Prince  soon  drew  him  out 
in  many  things,  of  which  he  professed  to  have  heard  a  great 
deal,  and  which  Mr.  Mathews  could  not  have  attempted  before 
him  under  less  judicious  and  delicate  influence,  and  the  rest  of 
the  evening  proved  very  gratifying  to  the  actor. 

It  was  about  this  period  that  my  husband  first  became  inti- 


126  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESrONDENCE  OF 

mate  with  Mr.  Theodore  Hook.*  The  election  for  Westminster 
had  recently  taken  place,  and  Mr.  Sheridan  was  chosen  one  of 
its  representatives,  on  which  occasion  the  actors  of  Drury-lane 
celebrated  their  proprietor's  triumph  by  giving  him  a  dinner 

*  Theodore  Edward  Hook,  novelist,  political  essayist,  and,  with  perhaps 
the  single  exception  of  Douglas  Jerrold,  the  greatest  conversational  wit  of  the 
century,  was  born  on  22nd  September,  1788,  and  educated  at  Harrow  at  the 
same  time  as  Lord  Byron.  At  the  age  of  sixteen  he  commenced  writing  for 
the  stage,  and  with  almost  unvarying  success.  His  wondrous  powers  of 
repartee  and  judicious  play  upon  words — above  all,  his  gift  of  improvising 
verses  and  constructing  rhymes  on  the  most  out-of-the-way  words  and  on  the 
names  of  the  best-known  people,  caused  him  to  become  a  welcome  guest  in  the 
best  society  of  the  day.  Campbell  the  poet  spoke  of  him  as  "a  wonderful 
creature,"  Coleridge  declared  him  to  be  "as  true  a  genius  as  Dante,"  and  at 
last  he  was  brought  under  the  notice  of  the  Prince  Regent,  who  was  so 
charmed  with  his  comic  singing  and  extempore  verse-making,  as  to  procure 
him  the  situation  of  Accountant- General  and  Treasurer  of  the  Mauritius,  with 
a  salary  of  2000/.  a  year.  At  the  Mauritius  he  remained  five  years,  living  in 
the  gayest  and  most  extravagant  manner,  but  at  the  end  of  that  period  a 
scrutiny  of  the  public  accounts  was  made  by  a  committee  of  inquiry,  and  gross 
defalcations  were  discovered  in  the  treasurer's  books.  The  deficit  was  for  a 
very  large  amount,  and  as  Mr.  Hook  was  responsible,  he  was  arrested  and 
shipped  off  to  England.  On  his  arrival,  the  accounts  were  examined,  and  the  late 
treasurer  was  declared  by  the  Board  of  Credit  to  be  liable  for  9000Z.,  an  amount 
which  he  of  course  had  not  the  means  of  paying,  and  he  was  accordingly 
lodged  in  the  King's  Bench,  where  he  remained  for  two  years.  In  March, 
1825,  Mr.  Hook  was  set  at  liberty,  but  informed  that  he  was  "in  no  degree 
exonerated  from  his  liability  to  the  debt,  if  he  should  hereafter  have  the  means 
of  discharging  it."  Upon  his  arrival  in  England  he  recommenced  dramatic 
writing,  and  began  to  contribute  to  newspapers  and  magazines.  In  the  year 
1820  he  established  the  John  Bull,  and  in  a  few  weeks,  by  the  combined  force 
of  great  talent  and  unblushing  effrontery  and  personality,  he  rendered  it  the 
great  organ  of  George  the  Fourth  and  the  Tories,  and  the  terror  of  Queen 
Caroline  and  the  Whigs.  In  the  year  1824  he  commenced  his  career  as  a 
novelist  by  the  publication  of  "  Sayings  and  Doings,"  to  which  were  added  in 
successive  years  "Maxwell,"  "The  Parson's  Daughter,"  "Love  and  Pride," 
"  Gilbert  Gurney,"  "  Gurney  Married,"  "Jack  Brag,"  "Births,  Deaths,  and 
Marriages,"  and  "Father  and  Son."  Some  of  these  were  originally  pub- 
lished in  the  "  New  Monthly  Magazine,"  of  which  periodical  he  became  editor 
in  1830. 

From  the  time  of  his  liberation  in  1825,  until  his  death  in  1841,  his  life 
was  one  round  of  dissipation,  high  living,  and  hard  work.  Courted,  flattered, 
and  demanded  in  the  highest  and  best  society,  loving  admiration  like  a  girl, 
and  doting  on  pleasure  and  mischief  like  a  boy,  he  was  compelled  to  keep  up 
his  literary  engagements  as  a  means  of  subsistence.  After  a  night  passed  in 
feasting,  gambling,  and  debauchery,  he  would  steal  two  or  three  hours  from 
his  fevered  sleep  to  dash  off  a  certain  number  of  pages  for  his  novel,  or  a 
certain  number  of  articles  for  his  newspaper,  and  then  again  plunge  into  the 
thousand  insanities  and  vices  of  the  society  in  which  he  lived.  And  these  were 
not  exceptional  cases — this  was  his  regular  life  :  from  the  time  of  his  leaving 
prison  until  his  death  he  knew  no  other.     Of  course  his  writings  under  such 


CHARLES  IklATHEWS.  127 

at  the  Piazza  Coffee-house.  To  this  dinner  Mr.  Hook  was 
invited. 

In  the  course  of  the  day  many  persons  sung,  and  Mr.  Hook 
being  in  turn  solicited,  displayed  to  the  delight  and  surprise  of 
all  present,  his  wondrous  talent  in  extemporaneous  singing. 
The  company  was  numerous,  and  generally  strangers  to  Mr. 
Hook  ;  but  without  a  moment's  premeditation,  he  composed  a 
verse  upon  every  person  in  the  room,  full  of  the  most  pointed 
wit,  and  with  the  truest  rhymes,  unhesitatingly  gathering  into 
his  subject,  as  he  rapidly  proceeded,  in  addition  to  what  had 
passed  during  the  dinner,  every  trivial  incident  of  the  moment. 
Every  action  was  turned  to  account ;  every  circumstance,  the 
look,  the  gesture,  or  any  other  accidental  effects,  served  as 
occasion  for  more  wit ;  and  even  the  singer's  ignorance  of  the 
names  and  condition  of  many  of  the  party,  seemed  to  give  greater 

circumstances  were  no  criterion  of  his  natural  powers,  for  the  mere  vis  vitce 
had  to  be  sustained  by  constant  draughts  of  champagne  and  brandy,  and  the 
next  morning's  reaction  was  fatal  to  any  effort  of  the  brain,  but  the  potations 
served  to  re-kindle  the  brilliancy  of  his  spoken  wit  and  his  conversational 
vivacity,  which  were  unapproachable  to  the  last. 

On  the  24th  of  August,  1841,  Hook  died,  bankrupt  in  purse,  broken  down 
in  health,  a  premature  old  man,  with  a  most  brilliant  circle  of  acquaintances, 
but  without  one  real  friend.  His  effects  sold  for  2o00Z.,  which  sum  was  imme- 
diately claimed  by  Government,  and  a  subscription  was  set  on  foot  for  his 
illegitimate  children  and  their  mother.  The  subscription  amounted  to  nearly 
3000Z. ,  of  which  the  late  King  of  Hanover,  to  his  credit,  gave  500Z. 

So  lived  and  so  died  one  of  the  most  originally-gifted  geniuses  of  his  day, 
and  as  we  regret  to  confess,  one  of  the  meanest  characters  that  time  has  ever 
produced.  Scrupulous,  dishonest,  timeserving,  a  bully  to  the  poor  and  a 
flunkey  to  the  rich,  lacking  the  principle  either  to  pay  his  creditors  or  to 
marry  his  victim,  lacking  the  courage  to  take  up  his  position  as  a  man  of 
letters  on  the  strength  of  his  talent,  and  content  to  fritter  his  days  away  as  a 
buffoon  to  the  aristocracy,  this  gifted  man  went  to  the  grave  unhonoured,  un- 
mourned,  uncared  for.  His  novels  are  even  now  seldon!  read,  his  hons  mots 
are  even  now  forgotten  or  fathered  upon  others,  and  by  the  succeeding  gene- 
ration his  name  will  scarcely  be  known.  He  was  perhaps  the  most  daring 
practical  joker  that  ever  existed,  and  his  successes  in  this  way  are  embodiecl 
in  the  pages  of  "  Gilbert  Gurney."  Of  Lis  jests  it  will  be  sufiicient  to  quote 
two  examples.  One  occurred  after  a  "swell"  dinner-party,  when  the  company 
were  dispersing.  "  Have  jou  lost  your  hat,  Hook  ?"  asked  the  Duke  of  Rut- 
land, seeing  Theodore  engaged  in  a  fruitless  search.  *'I  have,"  replied  the 
punster;  "but  had  I  such  a  Belvoir  as  your  grace,  depend  upon  it  I'd  take 
better  care  of  it."  The  other  was  delivered  at  my  own  christening,  at  which 
ceremony  Hook  was  present.  "What  are  you  going  to  call  the  boy,  Fred?" 
asked  he.  "Edmund  Hodgson,"  replied  my  father,  "after  his  godfathers, 
you  know,  the  Hon.  Edmund  13yng,  and  Hodgson,  the  Pale  Ale  brewer." 
"After  them  !"  retorted  Hook;  "then  you  had  much  better  christen  him 
£yngo  Stingo  r—E.Y. 


12$  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

facility  to  his  brilliant  hits  than  even  acquaintance  with  them 
might  have  furnished.  Mr.  Sheridan  was  astonished  at  his  extra- 
ordinary faculty,  and  declared  that  he  could  not  have  imagined 
such  power  possible,  had  he  not  witnessed  it.  No  description, 
he  said,  could  have  convinced  him  of  so  peculiar  an  instance  of 
genius,  and  he  protested  that  he  should  not  have  believed  it  to 
have  been  an  unstudied  effort,  had  he  not  seen  proof  that  no 
anticipation  could  have  been  formed  of  what  might  arise  to 
furnish  matter  and  opportunities  for  the  exercise  of  this  rare 
talent. 

It  was  a  bright  day  altogether,  upon  which  Sheridan  himself, 
however,  shed  but  little  light.  He  made  a  speech,  which  was 
not  remarkable  for  any  of  that  brilliancy  which  he  was  wont  to 
strike  out  in  oratory.  In  fact,  he  was  seldom  agreeable  in  the 
presence  of  actors ;  before  them  his  cheerfulness  and  mirth  (if 
they  existed  at  the  period  to  which  I  allude)  never  appeared. 
He  always  entered  his  own  theatre  as  if  stealthily  and  un- 
willingly ;  and  his  appearance  amongst  his  performers  never 
failed,  to  act  like  a  dark  cloud,  casting  a  shade  for  the  time  over 
all  the  gaiety  of  the  green-room — a  place  generally  so  delightful 
to  all  who  entered  it,  Mr.  Sheridan's  coming  "  displaced  the 
mirth,  broke  the  good  meeting"  of  the  time,  and  the  actors 
might  aptly  have  applied  to  him  a  passage  from  his  own  ad- 
mirable "  School  for  Scandal,"  and  exclaimed  as  he  entered,  "  Oh, 
here  comes  Sir  Peter  to  spoil  our  pleasantry :"  for  he  was  on 
these  occasions  almost  morose.  I  perfectly  well  remember  one 
particular  evening,  when  Miss  De  Camp,  after  a  somewhat 
animated  colloquy  with  him,  closed  it  by  telling  him,  "  that  the 
performers  were  all  very  happy  before  he  entered  the  room,  and 
that  he  never  came  but  to  make  everybody  uncomfortable." 

Mr.  Sheridan  certainly  was  not  in  his  element  there,  although 
himself  the  son  of  an  actor.  Not  only  in  this  place,  however, 
but  elsewhere  in  his  later  years,  this  great  man  gave  sad  evidence 
of  a  decrease  in  social  enjoyment.  He  drank,  even  where  ladies 
were  present,  inordinately  at  table.*  I  recollect  once  sitting 
next  to  him  at  a  dinner-party,  and  his  f]*equently  talking  to  me 

*  Sir  "Walter  Scott,  in  his  Diary  (published  since  the  above  was  written,  in 
Mr.  Lockhart's  life  of  that  great  nian),  made  the  following  memorandum,  in 
reference  to  this  subject,  after  a  visit  of  my  husband  to  Abbotsford. 
"  Mathews  assures  me  that  Sheridan  was  generally  very  dull  in  society,  and 
sat  sullen  and  silent,  swallowing  glass  after  glass,  rather  a  hindrance  than  a 
help  ;  but  there  was  a  time  when  he  broke  out  with  a  resumption  of  what  had 
been  going  on,  done  with  great  force,  and  generally  attacking  some  person  in 
the  company,  and  some  opinions  which  he  had  expressed. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  129 

in  the  course  of  it  (knowing  me  perfectly  well),  and  soon  after 
the  cloth  was  removed,  my  husband  having  said  something 
which  called  forth  general  mirth,  Mr.  Sheridan  asljed  me 
w^hether  I  "  had  ever  before  been  in  company  with  Mathews  ;  if 
not,  that  I  had  a  great  treat  to  come  !"  He  was  in  fact  very  fond 
of  my  husband,  and  courted  his  society  often,  both  at  his  own 
table  and  elsewhere.  At  these  times  the  most  mirthful  feeling 
he  ever  exhibited  seemed  to  be  elicited  by  Mr.  Mathews's  efforts ; 
for  Mr.  Sheridan,  like  all  men  of  great  genius,  had  a  full  measure  of 
respect  and  admiration  for  that  which  he  discovered  in  others ;  but 
it  appeared  that  his  fine  spirit  had  so  far  lost  its  buoyancy,  that 
it  was  no  longer  able  to  keep  itself  up  against  younger  and 
fresher  minds.  Nay,  even  with  men  of  his  own  age,  his  wit 
could  not  compete  with  superior  animal  spirits.  Mr.  Colman 
perfectly  broke  him  down  by  the  force  of  his  vivacity.  Sheridan 
had  no  chance  with  him  in  repartee,  and  he  always  gave  up  to 
his  little  merry  companion,  after  the  first  attempt,  in  which  he 
generally  failed.  His  genius  seemed  to  forsake  him  for  the  time, 
and  Mr.  Colman's  fire  appeared  to  blaze  the  brighter  for  being 
kindled  upon  the  embers  of  the  splendid  ruin  before  him.*  He 
always  felt  his  own  advantage,  and  was  more  brilhant  as  he 
found  the  other  more  dull.  Mr.  Colman's  joyousness  was  not 
met,  even  at  the  time  my  husband  first  knew  these  great  men, 
with  corresponding  feeling :  Sheridan's  fire,  though  not  his  wit, 
was  evidently  burnt  out ;  while  that  of  his  charming  contem- 
porary proved  inextinguishable  to  his  last  hour. 

Mr.  Sheridan,  in  these  his  latter  years,  seemed  tacitly  to 
admit  his  absence  of  power  to  keep  up  with  such  men,  and  to 
feel  that  depression  which  precluded  him  from  doing  himself 
justice  amongst  more  alert  minds,  though  always  ready  to  do 
honour  to  any  excellence  he  met  with.  He  was  fond  of  pro- 
moting any  occasion  for  mirth,  by  the  talents  and  exertions  of 
others,  and  many  intimations  were  received  by  Mr.  Mathews 
from  him,  when  any  plot  for  a  petite  comedy  entered  the  great 
dramatist's  head,  for  private  amusement. 

Sometimes  the  writing  of  these  little  despatches  was  so 
wretchedly  bad  as  to  render  their  meaning  unintelligible,  and  to 
compel  my  husband  to  take  the  notes  to  his  son,  Mr.  Thomas 
Sheridan,  for  translation ;  and  I  have  now  in  my  possession 
writings  of  his  containing  words  that  would  puzzle  the  most 

*  It  must  "be  understood  that  my  impressions  of  Mr.  Sheridan  relate  to  the 
latter  part  of  his  life. 


130  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

ingenious  to  make  out  without  the  context.  I  remember  a  droll 
fact  illustrative  of  this.  One  night  an  order  of  Mr.  Sheridan's 
was  stopped  at  the  box-door  of  Drury-lane  Theatre,  and  pro- 
nounced a  forgery,  because  the  door-keeper  could  read  it ! 

November  11th,  1808. 
Deae  Mathews, 

"  I  'gin  to  pull  in  resolution." 

When  I  talked  of  holiday  Sundays,  I  felt  bolder  than,  upon  reflection, 
I  ought  to  do,  with  a  due  respect  to  the  regulations  of  our  college,* 
into  which  I  have  more  particularly  inquired  since  we  met.  So  another 
day,  in  the  course  of  the  month,  I  will,  if  you  please,  attend  you,  and 
be  kind  enough  to  look  out  for  a  moon  for  me,  for  I  incline  to  the  party 
of  the  Lunatics,  and  am  no  follower  of  the  Prince  of  Darkness,  on  the 
King's  highway. 

So,  Sheridan  and  Hood  for  ever !  No  PauU !  God  save  the  King  ! 
Bless  the  crier !     Huzza !  huzza ! 

G.  COLMAN. 
To  Charles  Mathews,  Esq. 

A  short  time  previously  to  the  date  of  the  above  letter,  my 
husband  had  taken  a  pretty  rustic  cottage,  in  one  of  the  most 
retired  lanes  of  Colney  Hatch,  where  he  nightly  drove  me,  even 
after  the  latest  performances  at  Drury-lane,  for  the  pleasure  of 
enjoying  an  hour  or  two  the  next  morning,  and  the  whole  of 
every  Sunday,  in  the  air  and  the  neighbourhood  so  interesting  to 
him.  From  this  spot  we  often  visited  his  late  father's  cottage 
in  the  rural  lane,  where  also  his  chapel  stood.  Mr.  Mathews 
had  even  a  boyish  delight,  tempered  with  much  tender  feeling, 
in  sauntering  near  this  spot,  sitting  upon  the  stile  opposite  to 
the  cottage-gate,  and  loitering  about  the  scene  endeared  to  him 
by  early  recollections.  The  alx)ve  intimation  from  Mr.  Colman 
referred  to  his  first  visit  to  "  Twig  Hall,"  so  named  after  its 
nominal  owner,  little  Charles,  who  had  soon  after  his  birth  been 
named  "  Twig"  by  the  same  sponsor  (Mr.  Litchfield)  who  had 
given  his  father  the  early  appellation  of  "  Stick."  The  Twig  was 
slight,  and  drooped  in  London  air,  so  that  a  more  healthy  climate 
was  absolutely  necessar}'-  for  its  support.  This  little  box  was, 
in  fact,  considered  his,  and  all  who  came  there  were  but  children 
for  the  time  being,  and  confessedly  and  necessarily  Twig's  play- 
fellows. 

EecoUection  revives  many  a  joyous  scene  enacted  in  the  nar- 

*  Mr.  Colman  was,  it  was  understood,  at  this  time  confined  within  the  rules 
of  the  Bench  for  a  debt  contracted  by  his  father  to  the  father  of  the  person  who 
placed  him  there. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  131 

row  compass  of  this  tiny  place,  in  whicli  as  many  delightful 
associations  were  formed.  There,  in  rooms  hardly  bigger  than 
cells,  would  friends  of  the  rarest  talent  unbend  and  revel  in  rural 
freedom  once  a  week  ;  and  little  Twig  welcomed  his  guests,  under 
the  conviction  that  they  came  to  "  pay  wis  him."  Amongst 
these  Mr.  Liston  (or,  as  Twig  called  him,  for  want  of  better 
pronunciation,  "  Misser  Lickton)  was  an  especial  favourite.  One 
morning  after  breakfast  I  missed  these  two  children,  and  from 
an  upper  window  discovered  the  little  dot  with  him  of  larger 
growth,  earnestly  engaged  in  the  game  of  "  hide  and  seek,"  the 
latter  running  with  serious  aspect  from  gooseberry-bush  to  goose- 
berry-bush, calling  out  the  misleading  whoop !  to  the  urchin, 
who  on  each  intimation  trundled  its  tiny  round  figure  after  the 
sound.  I  could  not  suppress  a  laugh  when  I  saw  the  bigger  boy 
as  he  crouched  down,  quite  unconscious  of  a  witness  of  his  grave 
amusement,  draw  out  his  snuff-box  and  take  a  pinch  of  snuff  to 
heighten  his  enjoyment.  This  indulgence  gave  time  and  oppor- 
tunity to  his  little  dupe  to  reach  the  spot,  with  a  scream  of 
delighted  triumph  at  the  long-sought  detection  of  the  hider, 
who  vainly  tried  to  escape  from  the  grasp  of  the  small  hand 
which  seized  his  coat,  while  his  turn  was  insisted  on,  and  Misser 
Lickton  was  commanded  to  turn  away  his  head  from  the  where- 
about of  his  co-mate  in  the  game  until  the  appointed  signal  was 
given. 

On  the  night  when  Mr.  Liston  led  forward  as  father  the  young 
man  whom  he  had  humoured  when  a  child,  the  "  Old  and  Young 
Stager"  again  played  together  before  me  ;  but  my  smiles  on  that 
occasion,  unlike  those  of  old,  were  mingled  with  tears,  for  I  sat 
alone,  and  thought  of  him  who  would  have  witnessed  with  pride 
and  gratification  the  triumph  of  that  night,  and  the  general 
kindness  which  greeted  his  son,  so  much  beloved  by  him.  What 
a  multitude  of  recollections  of  bygone  scenes,  and  sweet  asso- 
ciations, did  that  scene  bring  before  my  mind's  eye,  as  I  beheld 
the  object  best  and  dearest  to  me  on  earth  relinquishing  the 
profession  of  his  choice,  and  standing  forward,  untutored,  in  one 
of  the  most  arduous  nature,  even  to  those  who  have  studied  it 
with  care,  and  practised  it  from  their  earliest  days ;  and  all  this 
for  the  sake  of  his  mother  I* 

*  I  may  here  notice,  in  order  to  contradict  it,  a  report  that  has  made  its 
■way  into  the  several  accounts  which  have  appeared  respecting  my  son's 
entrance  upon  the  stage — namely,  that  in  becoming  an  actor,  he  opposed  the 
expressed  wish  of  his  father.  So  far  from  this  being  true,  he  was  encou- 
raged to  adopt  it  within  the  last  few  years,  for  his  father  believed  that  he 

k2 


'1S2  THE  LIFE  AND  COERESPONDENCE  OF 

But  to  return  to  the  cottage.  There  often  might  be  seen 
Harriet  Mellon — then  a  youthful,  slim,  and  beautiful  creature  : 
she  would  come,  all  joy  and  simplicity,  for  a  day's  recreation. 
How  merry  and  happy  she  was!  perhaps  happier  than  when 
splendour  hedged  her  in  from  the  enjoyment  of  simple  pleasures, 
the  love  of  which  I  believe  to  have  been  inherent  in  her  nature. 
I  see  her  now,  returning  from  a  tumble  into  a  neighbouring 
pond,  in  the  middle  of  which  her  horse  had  unexpectedly  chosen 
to  drink.  How  unaffectedly  she  protested,  when  dragged  out, 
that  she  did  not  care  for  the  accident,  and  walked  home,  though 
with  difficulty,  across  the  common,  with  her  musHn  garments 
saturated  with  muddy  water,  and  her  beautiful  hair  dripping 
down  her  back  !  How  we  laughed  while  we  afterwards  dragged 
off  the  wet  clothes  from  her  fine  form,  half  apprehensive  for  the 
consequences !  Then  again,  what  peals  of  merriment  attended 
her  re-appearance  in  the  borrowed,  ill-fitting  dress  that  had 
been  cast  upon  her,  and  the  uncouth  turban  that  bound  her 
straightened  hair,  and  which  she  was  compelled  to  wear  for  the 
rest  of  the  day !  What  amusement  her  figure  created !  how 
well  she  converted  by  her  good  humour  an  almost  serious  acci- 
dent into  one  of  general  entertainment !  How  many  other 
drolleries  have  I  seen  her  enact  at  various  periods,  in  the  same 
place,  my  husband  the  leader  of  such  revels  !  This  little  spot 
was  in  reality  the  sans  souci  of  our  friends,  and  little  Twig  the 
presiding  deity  of  the  place,  and  the  epitome  of  fun  and  merri- 
ment ;  as  such  he  was  allowed  perfect  liberty  for  the  time.  One 
day  he  entered  the  room  with  his  hands  full  of  the  sibylline 
leaves  of  the  nursery — in  other  words,  half  a  pack  of  very  dirty 

possessed  the  talent  to  excel  in  his  own  particular  line;  and  fearing  that 
the  pursuit  of  architecture  was  not  likely  to  enrich  him  for  many  years, 
expressed  his  opinion  that  Charles  might  with  greater  advantage  appear  in 
public  as  an  actor.  It  was  the  son  who  objected — nay,  silenced  the  argu- 
ments of  his  father,  from  the  devotion  he  felt  to  that  profession  for  which 
he  had  been  educated ;  and  I  believe  I  may  assert  that  this  was  the  only 
occasion  upon  which  his  father's  wishes  were  not  considered  commands  by 
him.  Their  mutual  love,  and  I  may  add  esteem,  admitted  of  no  differences ; 
their  affection  never  knew  an  hour's  interruption,  and  he  would  have  found 
it  as  impossible  to  his  nature  to  fly  in  the  face  of  his  father's  commands 
after  his  death,  as  he  proved  himself  incapable  of  thwarting  them  while 
living.     This  every  person  who  knew  them  can  testify. 

He  made  his  fii-st  appearance  on  the  7th  of  December,  1835,  at  the 
Theatre  Royal  Olympic,  after  little  more  than  a  fortnight's  preparation,  in  a 
;petite  comedy  of  his  own,  called  '*  The  Hunchbacked  Lover,"  and  an  admirable 
piece,  written  for  the  occasion  by  Mr.  Lemau  Eede,  called  "The  Old  and 
Young  Stager." 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  133 

cards,  wliich  he  had  abstracted  from  his  maid's  drawer,  and  with 
which  he  offered  to  tell  Miss  Mellon  her  fortune.  Borrowing 
the  cant  and  phraseology  of  the  owner  of  them,  he  foretold  that 
his  favourite  would  some  day  be  "  married" — not  to  Mr.  Coutts, 
the  banker — not  to  the  Duke  of  St.  Alban's — but  to  a  "  hand- 
some carpenter." 

We  ceased  our  intimacy  with  Miss  Mellon  just  as  she  became 
a  rich  woman  ;  but  in  after  years  we  never  glanced  at  each  other 
in  public  for  a  moment,  that  I  did  not  fancy  that  the  Duchess 
of  St.  Alban's  looked  as  if  she  remembered  these  scenes,  and 
felt  that  they  were  very  happy.  "  Twig  Hall,"  in  short,  was  a 
place  not  to  be  forgotten  by  its  visitors.  Alas  !  how  few  now 
remain  to  dwell  upon  the  recollections  this  mention  of  it  is  cal- 
culated to  renew ! 


134  THE  LIFE  AND  COEEESPONDENCE  OF 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

"  The  Spanish  Ambassador"  and  his  "Interpreter." 

Mr.  Mathews's  various  powers  of  disguise  naturally  tempted 
his  friends  into  a  strong  desire  of  witnessing  the  ejffects  arising 
from  them  upon  others.  We  had  returned  to  town,  and  resided 
in  Great  Russell-street ;  and  as  our  only  wooded  view  was  the 
gate  of  the  British  Museum,  which  faced  our  windows,  my  hus- 
band took  every  opportunity  of  running  away  from  it  for  a  day ; 
and  it  became  a  sort  of  fashion  amongst  a  knot  of  his  male 
friends  to  make  parties  for  him  to  the  neighbourhood  of  London, 
where  good  entertainment  for  man  and  horse  was  to  be  met  with. 
At  one  period,  six  or  eight  of  these  worthies  determined  to  make 
a  trip  of  pleasure,  partly  on  a  water-excursion.  It  was  at  the 
time  when  the  excitement  prevailed  about  Ferdinand  of  Spain  ; 
and  it  was  suggested  and  arranged  that  Mr.  Mathews  should 
travel  on  this  occasion  as  the  Spanish  Ambassador.  His  suite 
therefore  disposed  themselves  in  two  carriages,  "  his  Excellency" 
dignifying  the  foremost  till  they  arrived  at  Woolwich,  the  place 
destined  for  the  first  halt.  Here  Mr.  Hill,*  one  of  the  party, 
undertook  the  office  of  interpreter,  and  he  speedily  whispered  to 
the  landlord  the  rank  of  the  personage  he  had  the  honour  to 
entertain  under  his  roof.  The  intelligence  acted  like  a  spark  of 
electricity,  communicating  its  effect  to  the  whole  establishment, 
and  setting  it  all  in  motion.  In  the  mean  time,  "  his  Excel- 
lency" sallied  forth  on  foot  with  his  suite,  in  order  to  behold  the 
wonders  of  the  place.  His  appearance  in  itself  was  very  striking, 
without  the  quick-spreading  knowledge  of  his  rank.  He  was 
dressed  in  a  bright  green  frock-coat ;  his  bosom,  ornamented  with 
a  profusion  of  orders  and  ribbons  of  every  sort,  dazzled  the 
curious  eye  of  the  observer.     On  his  head  he  wore  a  large  cocked 

*  Mr.  Thomas  Hill,  proprietor  of  "  The  Monthly  Mirror"  (so  often  alluded 
to  in  the  early  pages  of  this  book),  and  always  the  very  good  friend  of  my 
husband. 


\ 


Loudon  :Roatlpdge,'Wkrn.e;  4:  Routledgc . 


CHAELES  MATHEWS.  135 

hat  with  patriotic  devices  affixed,  such  as  "  Viva  Ferdinand !" 
upon  a  ribbon  of  purple  ground  in  golden  characters ;  and  "  his 
Excellency"  also  wore  a  pair  of  green  spectacles.  In  the  streets 
of  Woolwich  he  was  followed  and  cheered  by  all  the  little  boys 
in  the  neighbourhood,  to  whom  the  condescending  Ambassador 
bowed  in  amiable  humility.  He  went  into  shops  and  bought 
divers  things,  speaking  volubly  the  jargon  which  his  interpreter 
rendered  into  good  English.  At  last,  almost  to  "his  Excel- 
lency's" consternation,  a  communication  was  made  by  the  higher 
powers  of  the  place,  that  whatever  the  "  Spanish  Ambassador" 
deigned  to  notice  would  be  open  to  "  his  Excellency's"  inspec- 
tion the  rest  of  the  day,  for  which  purpose  the  workmen  had 
received  orders  not  to  quit  the  spot  at  their  customary  hours 
of  refreshment,  but  await  his  commands  !  This  was  alarm- 
ing. It  was  more  than  "  his  Excellency"  reckoned  upon,  and 
fearful  was  the  thought  of  detection  under  such  a  distinguished 
mark  of  attention.  However,  the  Ambassador  graciously  ac- 
cepted the  proffered  exhibition,  and  viewed  all  that  was  to  be 
seen,  with  due  show  of  surprise  and  commendation,  faithfully 
interpreted  to  the  comptrollers  of  the  works.  When  at  last  this 
ludicrous  scene  ended,  the  Ambassador  and  his  suite  returned 
to  take  their  "  ease  at  their  inn,"  where  the  preparations  were 
indeed  appalling.  Every  bit  of  plate  that  could  be  got  toge- 
ther, not  only  belonging  to  the  house,  but,  as  they  aftewards 
learned,  from  the  neighbourhood,  was  displayed  in  gorgeous 
array,  to  grace  the  visit  of  so  distinguished  a  guest.  The  land- 
lord and  his  family,  and  his  servants,  were  tricked  out  in  all 
their  best  attire  to  wait  upon  the  great  man,  whom  they  were  all 
drawn  out  to  greet  upon  his  return,  courtesying  and  bobbing  to 
him ;  all  of  which  this  high-bred  man  and  illustrious  foreigner 
acknowledged  with  a  grace  and  condescension  that  won  all  hearts. 
He  talked  unceasingly,  but  they  could  only  dwell  upon  what  his 
interpreter  was  kind  enough  to  render  intelligible.  Now  and 
then,  indeed,  a  word  of  English  would  gratify  their  tortured 
ears — "  Goode  Englis'  pepel !"  "  Fine  houze  !  "  Tanks  1"  and 
such  like  comfits  sweetened  their  laborious  attendance. 

I  cannot  now  recount  half  the  absurdities  "his  Excellency" 
committed,  or  that  were  committed  for  "  his  Excellency,"  whose 
averred  habits  differed  very  strikingly  from  those  of  the  English. 
His  Interpreter  informed  the  landlord  that,  amongst  other 
peculiarities,  "  his  Excellency"  required  every  article  of  use  in 
vast  quantities ;  hundreds  of  napkins,  spoons,  forks,  plates ;  in 
fact,  no  man  that  had  not  lived  in  Spain  could  be  aware  of  such 


136  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

inordinate  demands.  The  first  view  of  his  bed-room  presented  to 
"  his  Excellency"  an  illumination  worthy  of  victory.  Numerous 
wax-lights  were  placed  in  various-shaped  candlesticks  about  the 
chamber,  and  about  twelve  dozen  towels,  piled  up  upon  a  table 
by  the  side  of  the  washing-stand,  for  his  one  night's  use.  The 
Ambassador  ordered  about  him  in  his  own  language,  which  was 
translated  according  to  circumstances  by  his  accomplished  fol- 
lower, whose  interpretation  sometimes  was  enough  to  overset 
the  gravity  of  any  hidalgo,  though  it  was  curious  to  observe 
that  everywhere,  when  only  a  solitary  advantage  was  to  be 
obtained,  and  that  advantage  reserved  for  the  great  man,  the 
Interpreter  always  felt  under  the  necessity  of  explaining  that 
"  his  Excellency"  had  a  taste  for  inferior  things,  and  preferred 
what,  to  an  Englishman,  was  objectionable,  particularly  in  warm 
weather — namely,  very  small  sleeping-rooms,  short  and  narrow 
beds,  low  pillows,  &c.  Things  usually  disdained  by  our  higher 
orders  were,  in  fact,  matters  of  luxury  in  Spain  ;  consequently, 
the  said  Interpreter  enjoyed  the  superior  accommodation  as  a 
matter  of  duty  which  called  upon  him  to  appropriate  the  best 
of  everything  to  himself.  All  this  added  to  the  amusement  of 
the  time,  and  laid  up  cause  for  future  mirth. 

The  next  morning  the  farce  was  resumed,  and  the  same 
mockeries  repeated.  "  His  Excellency"  breakfasted  with  the 
same  ceremonies  and  results  as  at  his  previous  day's  dinner,  pre- 
ferring the  stale  bread  and  eggs,  and  resigning  the  new  to  his 
Interpreter,  &c.  Thus  "  perked  up  in  a  glittering  sorrow,"  he 
was  not  sorry,  with  all  his  love  of  "fun,"  to  see  preparations 
for  a  removal,  which  at  length  took  place  amid  a  crowd,  as- 
sembled to  see  "his  Excellency"  depart,  and  which  cheered  him 
as  he  drove  off  with  the  greatest  enthusiasm. 

The  water-excursion  followed,  and  a  small  fishing-smack  was 
hired  for  the  purpose  of  a  sail.  The  master  of  it,  a  simple, 
illiterate,  fresh-water  tar,  was  duly  impressed  with  the  honour 
bestowed  on  his  little  craft  by  the  noble  freight  it  carried,  and 
was  all  deference  and  delight.  The  Ambassador,  feigning  to 
suppose  this  little  dirty-faced  fellow  a  naval  hero,  expressed 
great  respect  and  affection  for  the  noble  "British  Capitaine," 
while  he  directed  his  Interpreter  to  inform  him  that  he  should 
boast  of  his  acquaintance  to  Ferdinand,  and  predispose  the 
whole  of  the  Spanish  nation  in  his  favour.  The  old  man  shed 
tears  of  gratification  at  all  this,  and  "  his  Excellency"  would 
not  suffer  his  favourite  the  "Capitaine"  to  move  from  his  side. 
.Hefreshments  had  been  carried  on  board,  and  amongst  these  a 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  137 

can,  said  to  contain  a  quantity  of  lamp-oil  for  "  his  Excellency's" 
exclusive  drinking.  Everything  was  done  to  excite  surprise  in 
the  little  master  of  the  boat  that  could  be  devised  at  the  moment. 
One  thing  I  well  remember.  A  piece  of  an  apple  had  been  cut 
into  the  form  of  a  candle-end,  and  a  bit  of  scraped  almond  com- 
pleted the  deception.  The  Ambassador,  happening  to  drop  his 
toothpick  in  a  dusky  corner  of  the  boat,  demanded  a  light  from 
his  Interpreter,  who  presented  him  with  the  above  preparation 
in  a  luminous  state ;  and  "  his  Excellency,"  having  searched 
for  the  toothpick  and  found  it,  blew  out  the  candle,  and  after  a 
minute's  pause  of  hesitation  where  to  place  it,  put  it  into  his 
mouth  with  unconcern,  and  ate  the  whole  of  it !  The  "  Capi- 
taine"  looked  wonder  and  disgust  at  this,  and  more  especially 
when  "  his  Excellency,"  expressing  a  desire  for  some  lamp-oil 
to  wash  it  down,  a  glassful  of  yellow  liquid  was  poured  out, 
supposed  to  be  what  he  asked  for,  and  he  swallowed  it*  appa- 
rently with  much  relish.  The  master's  chest  absolutely  heaved 
at  this  finishing  proof  of  a  depraved  taste.  However,  the  time 
came  when  the  Ambassador  and  suite  wished  to  land  at  their 
dining-place,  and  it  was  agreed  that  the  master  should  await  to 
take  them  back  to  Woolwich,  where  the  carriages  were  left,  to 
convey  them  to  town.  "His  Excellency,"  however,  had  had 
enough  of  his  empty  dignity,  and  hungered  for  the  solid  ad- 
vantages of  a  common  man,  of  which  it  was  the  fancy  of  his 
Interpreter  to  stint  him,  while  he  wanted  language  to  assert 
his  rights  and  wishes.  It  was  accordingly  resolved  that  he 
should  resign  his  honours,  resume  his  mother-tongue,  and  leave 
his  title  behind  him.  Doffing  his  spectacles  and  medals,  and 
exchanging  his  green  for  a  blue  coat — in  fact,  becoming  him- 
self— he  re-entered  the  boat  as  a  stranger,  who  desired  to  be 
taken  to  Woolwich ;  and,  as  it  was  understood  by  the  master 
that  his  noble  patron,  the  Ambassador,  was  not  to  return,  he 
asked  leave  of  the  party  to  admit  the  gentleman  appl^'^ing.  Oa 
the  voyage  back  it  may  be  guessed  that  not  much  else  was 
talked  of  on  board  but  the  "  Spanish  Ambassador ;"  and  as  the 
stranger  expressed  an  interest  in  the  particulars  of  "  his  Excel- 
•lency's"  trip,  the  master  undertook  the  relation.  This  was  by 
far  the  better  part  of  the  whole  affair ;  for  the  vanity  of  the 
poor  little  man  induced  such  exaggerations  of  his  intimacy  and 
his  favour  with  his  noble  friend,  that  my  husband  was  inwardly 
convulsed  while  he  listened  to  the  account.  He  described  "  his 
Excellency"  as  a  "  werry  personable  man — not  what  in  Hengland 
we  should  call  'ansome,  but  werry  personable,  and  the  haffablest 


138  THE  LIFE  A^"D  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

cretor  I  ever  seed  in  my  life !  Why,  sir,  he  treated  me  more 
like  a  brother  than  anythink  else :  called  me  Captain,  and  pro- 
mised to  mention  me  kindly  in  Spain,  and  offered  to  interdoos 
me  to  King  Ferdinand  !  (But,  Lord,  I  couldn't  bear  to  live 
with  such  nasty  devils !)  What  a  happetite  he  had,  too  !  I 
couldn't  live  with  Spaniards,  I'm  sure,  if  they  all  eat  like  '  his 
Excellency.'  He  made  me  quite  sick,  old  as  I  am,  with  his  dirty 
Spanish  ways.  Why,  if  you'll  believe  me,  he  swallowed  at  one 
draught  a  whole  quart  of  lamp  ile,  and  eat  up  a  large  tally  candle 
at  a  mouthful !  I  seed  him  with  my  own  eyes,  or  I  wouldn't 
have  believed  it.  I  seed  it  all  go  down  his  Spanish  throat !  I've 
since  been  werry  much  puzzled,  though,  to  think  whatever  he 
did  vith  the  vick  !" 

When  the  party  reached  Woolwich,  they  found  their  carriages 
ready  to  receive  them,  and,  it  then  being  dark,  they  escaped 
further  notice.  But  the  visit  of  "  the  Spanish  Ambassador"  was 
not  soon  forgotten  there ;  and  though  there  was  some  after- 
suspicion  that  the  attention  of  the  resident  authorities  was  ex- 
pended on  an  impostor,  yet  the  name  of  "  his  Excellency's"  re- 
presentative never  transpired.  A  drawing  was  ordered  to  be  made 
by  the  "  interpreter,"  in  commemoration  of  the  event,  of  which 
my  husband  had  a  copy. 


In  apology,  if  it  need  one,  for  Mr.  Mathews's  early  love  of 
practical  joking,  hoaxing,  &c.  (a  species  of  amusement  very  justly 
placed  in  the  lowest  scale  of  humour),  I  think  it  fair  to  urge, 
that  at  the  period  these  scenes  took  place  he  had  no  other  oppor- 
tunity of  exercising  his  inherent  and  irrepressible  powers  of 
representation  !  In  his  profession  there  had  been  no  scope  for 
their  display :  he  performed  only  in  the  regular  routine  of  plays 
and  farces.  The  drama's  laws,  then  rigid,  forbade  any  mode 
by  which  his  unique  talents  could  possibly  be  exhibited ;  and 
his  spirits  were  so  exuberant,  that  it  seemed  a  necessity  rather 
than  a  choice  that  they  should  find  egress  by  any  mode  that 
presented  itself  to  his  imagination.  The  extravagant  acts  he 
practised  were,  in  fact,  like  so  many  safety-valves,  through  which 
these  spirit-fancies  escaped,  which,  if  restrained  and  driven  back, 
might  have  preyed  upon  his  mind  to  its  injury. 

To  show  that  what  I  here  assert  is  not  merely  imaginary,  I 
will  mention  a  circumstance  that  occurred  to  him  many  years 


i 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  139 

ago.  He  had  lived  a  very  vapid,  inactive  life  for  some  days,  at 
a  time  when  he  was  predisposed  to  mirth  and  mental  freedom. 
He  was  amongst  strangers,  people  who  never  made  a  joke,  or 
were  capable  of  receiving  one.  They  were  grave,  matter-of-fact 
folks,  and  he  was  afraid  to  give  loose  to  any  of  those  active  exer- 
cises of  his  vivacious  imagination  which  he  was  wont  to  throw 
out  in  society.  All  was  propriety  and  dulness.  His  spirit  was 
pressed  down,  "  cabin'd,  cribb'd,  confin'd;"  he  never  ventured  a 
playful  remark,  for  he  was  conscious  that  it  would  not  have  been 
understood.  In  fact,  in  the  midst  of  many  persons  he  felt  alone, 
and  at  last,  almost  desponding. 

One  morning  this  party,  all  gentlemen,  assembled  for  the  pur- 
pose of  spending  the  day  in  an  excursion,  and  were  mounted  on 
their  horses  ready  to  proceed.  My  husband's  depressed  spirits 
were  exhilarated  by  the  beauty  of  the  weather,  and  the  prospect 
of  a  day's  pleasure  (free  from  the  restraint  of  a  room,  listening 
to  truisms)  in  the  open  air,  where  he  would  have  uncontrolled 
power  to  gaze  upon  his  idol  Nature  in  her  most  beautiful  form. 
He  had  not  ridden  out  of  the  city  for  some  weeks,  and  was  in  a 
state  of  childish  dehght  and  excitement.  At  this  moment  his 
eyes  turned  upon  one  of  the  party,  a  very  little  man,  who  was 
perched  on  a  very  tall  horse,  and  who  seemed  unusually  grave 
and  important.  Mr.  Mathews  looked  at  him  for  a  moment; 
and  the  next  knocked  him  off  with  a  smart  blow,  and  he  fell  to 
the  ground.  The  whole  party  were  struck  with  horror ;  but  no 
one  felt  more  shocked  than  he  who  had  committed  the  outrage. 
He  dismounted,  picked  up  the  little  victim  to  his  unaccountable 
freak,  declared  himself  unable  to  give  any  motive  for  the  action, 
but  that  it  was  an  impulse  he  could  not  resist ;  and  afterwards, 
in  relating  this  extraordinary  incident,  he  declared  his  conviction 
that  it  was  a  moment  of  frenzy,  induced  by  the  too  sudden  re- 
action from  previous  stagnation  of  all  freedom  and  amusement. 

His  intimate  acquaintance  at  this  time  with  a  kindred  spirit 
kept  alive  this  desire  to  astonish  others,  for  his  own  amusement, 
^onger  than  it  might  otherwise  have  lasted,  and  gave,  perhaps,  a 
new  impetus  to  his  fanciful  will.  The  youthful  Theodore  Hook 
had  a  head  to  devise,  and  nerve  to  execute,  and  lent  himself, 
heart  and  mind,  to  every  occasion  of  mirth ;  and  when  injury 
was  to  be  punished,  or  folly  reproved,  these  "  two  were  a  multi- 
tude" in  furthering  the  end. 

Mr.  Hook  was  a  master-spirit  in  such  freaks,  as  he  has  since 
proved  in  higher  aims.  He  devised  many  a  plan  which  "  asto- 
nished the  natives"  at  the  time ;  and  the  ingenuity  of  his  con- 


140  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

trivances,  and  the  witty  execution  of  them,  were  worthy  of 
more  important  occasions. 

I  will  relate  one  of  Mr.  Hook's  impromptus  in  this  way. 
Mr.  Mathews  was  one  of  a  party  making  an  excursion  upon  the 
Thames.     In  the  heat  of  the  day  "the  voyagers"  wished  for  a 
pleasant  landing-place,  in  order  to  enjoy  in  shade  and  shelter 
the  refreshments  which  their  boat  contained.     One  most  invit- 
ing spot  presented  itself,  and  Theodore  proposed  it  as  suitable  to 
their  purpose,  when  his  attention  was  directed  to  an  enormous 
board,  "  courteously  waving    them"  off,  with    a  request  that 
parties  would  not  land  upon  those  grounds.     Now,  had  the  pro- 
prietor of  the  said  grounds  been  aware  of  the  party  that  day 
boating,  he  would  have  done  wisely  to  remove  his  injunction, 
or  re-word  it ;  for  it  proved  as  direct  an  invitation  as  when  a 
rustic  hoyden,  at  a  merry-making,  deprecates  the  kiss  her  ad- 
mirer did  not  think  of  giving.    Parties  were  requested  not  to  land, 
and  therefore  this  party  would  land  ;  and  so  they  did — all  of  them 
believing,  except  their  leader  and  instigator  to  this  tresspass 
upon  private  property,  that  they  might  enjoj'^the  shade  without 
otience  or  detection  during  their  repast.    But  no  sooner  had  they 
commenced  operations  than  they  perceived  a  little  portly  gen- 
tleman coming  at  his  utmost  pace  down  the  slope,  evidently  very 
hot  with  exertion  and  choler.     The  more  timid  of  the  party 
were  for  retreat,  but  the  dauntless  Theodore  kept  his  stand. 
Looking  significantly  at  the  others,  and  pulling  my  husband  to 
his  side,  he  coolly  took  out  his  pocket-book  and  pencil,  and, 
without  seeming  to  notice  the  approaching  stranger,  made  me- 
moranda in  his  book,  and  observations  on  the  place  to  his  com- 
panion.    At  last,  the  owner  of  the  grounds  coming  up  to  the 
party,  began  to  denounce  this  invasion  of  his  premises  ;  but  Mr. 
Hook,  carrying  it  with  a  high  tone,  continued  his  investigation 
and  pencilling,  and  observed  aloud  to    Mr.  Mathews  that  he 
thought  the  canal  might,  with  most  propriety,  be  cut  through 
that  shrubbery,  and  turn  directly  across  the  front  of  the  lawn. 
To  be  sure,  it  would  be  rather  near  the  house,  but  that  could 
not  be  helped,  and  at  present  he  saw  no  other  way  of  proceeding. 
The   hot,  portly  little   gentleman   started,   and  cooled   down, 
changing  complexion  from  red  to  pale.     "  What,  sir  ■"  said  he, 
timidly,  and  even  fearfully,  "  am  I  to  understand  that  a  canal  is 
to  pass  through  these  grounds  ?"    Theodore  leisurely  finished  his. 
mem.,  and  then  carelessly  answered  in  the  affirmative.  The  little 
gentleman  now  altered  his  first  manner  to  one  of  great  anxiety 
and  civiHty;    asked  various  questions  as  to  the  probabilities, 


■s 


CHAELES  MATHEWS.  141 

time,  &c. ;  and  Theodore,  who  often  whispered  to  his  "  clerk" 
(my  husband),  while  he  pointed  about  the  grounds,  condescended 
to  inform  the  questioner  that  the  conduct  of  tlie  whole  proceed- 
ing was  given  into  his  hands,  and  was  entirely  dependent  upon 
his  judgment,  direction,  and  decision.  The  gentleman  now 
began  to  bustle  about,  evidently  uneasy,  and  anxious  to  conci- 
liate this  man  of  power,  who  told  him  that  when  he  had  made 
himself  and  his  clerk  masters  of  the  whole  scope  and  capabili- 
ties of  the  land,  he  and  the  friends  who  accompanied  him  in 
this  anxious  business  meant  to  take  their  refreshment  in  some 
commodious  part  of  the  ground,  to  which  he  supposed  there 
would  be  no  objection.  This  was  not  to  be  allowed  by  the  now 
truly  complaisant  little  gentleman.  "  Oh,  no,  he  could  not  think 
of  letting  the  party  remain  out  of  doors  ;  he  begged  they  would 
all  four  do  him  the  pleasure  of  taking  refreshment  within.  Him- 
self and  his  family  had  dined,  it  was  true  ;  but  something  should 
be  prepared  for  the  party,  and  he  entreated  they  would  not  re- 
fuse him  the  pleasure  of  entertaining  them."  Accordingly,  the 
intruders  followed  their  hospitable  inviter;  and  while  the  ser- 
vants were  despatched  to  provide  the  best  the  house  contained 
for  these  imexpected  guests,  they  were  presented  in  form  to  the 
lady  of  the  mansion  and  her  daughters,  and  the  cause  of  their 
arrival  was  explained  with  significant  looks,  as  much  as  to  say, 
*'  Our  delights  here  are  gone ;  but  do  not  betray  any  anxiety 
before  these  men." 

Well,  the  hateful  canal  business  was  of  course  the  topic  of 
conversation.  Theodore  "  thought  it  a  pity  so  to  break  up  a 
gentleman's  shrubbery ;  but  private  considerations  must  neces- 
sarily give  place  to  public  convenience,"  &c. ;  to  all  which  re- 
marks the  unluci^y  owner  of  the  grounds  gave  a  faint  assent. 

Refreshments  in  the  dining-room  were  now  announced,  and 
the  guests  proceeded  thither,  attended  obsequiously  by  their 
fluttered  host;  and  one  by  one  the  ladies  of  the  house,  "on 
hospitable  thoughts  intent,"  followed,  anxious  no  doubt  to  hear 
the  extent  of  the  threatened  calamity.  All  soon  became  calm  ; 
the  man  of  business  talked  largely  of  his  power  and  influence 
with  those  by  whom  he  was  employed ;  hinted  pretty  freely 
that  he  could  turn  the  canal  in  any  direction  he  liked  ;  and  in- 
deed at  last  "  the  hospitality"  of  his  new  friend,  and  "  the  ami- 
ability of  his  family,"  so  wrought  upon  the  sympathies  of  this 
planner  of  canals,  that,  after  a  bottle  or  two  of  excellent  wine, 
he  declared  "  it  would  be  shameful  to  disturb  so  much  comfort 
and  good  taste  by  such  a  process.     Hinting,  therefore,  that  be 


142  THE  LIFE  AND  COKEESPONDENCE  OF 

should  look  out  for  some  other  way  to  accomplish  the  intents  of 
government,  he  took  his  leave  with  his  clerk  and  friends,  and 
with  it  the  hearty  liking  of  the  whole  family,  whose  comfort  for 
the  time  this  frolic  had  upset. 

It  is  curious  enough  that,  some  years  after,  this  incident  was 
woven  into  a  French  vaudeville,  called  "  Le  gastronome  sans 
argent,"  and  was  performed  by  that  admirable  comedian,  Perlet, 
in  Paris,  doubtless  indirectly  communicated  by  some  friend  of 
the  boating  party  to  the  author  of  the  piece.* 

For  several  years  it  was  an  annual  custom  with  Mr.  Hook  and 
Mr.  Mathews,  and  other  Messieurs  (one  of  whom  is  now  a 
"  potent,  grave,  and  Reverend  Signior")  fond  of  a  frolic,  to  go 
to  Croydon  Fair,  for  the  purpose  of  cracking  walnuts — and  jokes. 
Innumerable  were  the  diverting  tricks  played  upon  those  they 
encountered,  and  upon  each  other,  by  these  young  and  buoyant 
spirits.  In  pursuance  of  the  latter  portion  of  their  amuse- 
ment, on  one  occasion,  while  strolling  through  the  market,  Mr. 
Hook  suddenly  proclaimed  himself  the  victim  of  fraternal 
cruelty,  declaring  that  his  brother  (Mr.  Mathews),  in  order  to 
deprive  him  of  his  property,  was  confining  him  to  his  side,  and 
otherwise  rendering  him  wretched  and  dependent,  and  that  he 
hoped  the  good  people  present  would  not  oppose  his  escape,  or 
attempt  to  follow  him.  As  he  said  this,  he  suddenly  sprang 
away  from  his  party,  leaving  his  unnatural  relation  in  what  he 
hoped  would  be  an  awkward  dilemma.  Brotherly  instinct,  how- 
ever, suggested  a  means  of  averting  popular  indignation  and 
satisfying  the  crowd  that  his  younger  brother  was  in  fact 
a  lunatic,  although  a  harmless  one ;  and  the  rest  of  the 
party  confirming  this  statement,  Mr.  Mathews  was  allowed 
quietly  to  follow  the  fugitive,  whom  he  and  his  friends  soon 
discovered  concealed  at  a  short  distance  round  a  corner,  waiting 
to  rejoin  them. 

After  this  they  repaired  to  the  coffee-room  at  the  inn.  Here 
again  the  lunatic  became  very  obstreperous,  and  behaved  in  a 
manner  so  as  to  justify  the  severity  of  his  alleged  brother,  who, 
after  a  time,  being  a  little  nervous  at  the  extent  of  his  relation's 
paroxysm,  left  the  room,  and  was  standing  at  the  outer  entrance 
of  the  hotel,  when  a  hearse  trotted  up  to  the  door  on  its  return 
from  its  melancholy  journey.  The  driver,  a  little  fat  man,  had 
just  dismounted  from  the  box,  in  his  professional  robes — namely, 
a  suit  of  woe,  and  eke  a  broad  crape  streaming  from  his  hat,  and 

*  This  scene,  as  will  be  recollected  by  all  novel-readers,  was  afterwards 
worked  into  the  admirable  "  Gilbert  Gurney." 


I 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  143 

hanging  down  his  back.  The  man  looked  at  my  husband  for  a 
minute,  and  smiling  with  much  meaning,  addressed  him,  as  he 
bowed,  by  his  name.  "  Ah,  Mr.  Mathews  !  my  last  inside  pas- 
senger died  of  laughing  at  you,  sir !"  My  husband,  who  gene- 
rally preserved  his  incognito,  was  startled  by  this  knowledge  of 
his  person,  but  being  withal  curious  to  know  the  man's  meaning, 
inquired  to  whom  he  alluded.  He  was  answered  by  a  significant 
action  over  the  shoulder  of  the  man,  whose  thumb  jerked  at 
the  mournful  machine  behind  him,  which  still  remained  at  the 
door. 

It  appeared,  upon  further  questioning,  that  the  recent  occu- 
pant of  the  gloomy  vehicle  had  gone  to  the  theatre  one 
night,  to  all  appearance  well ;  but  had  laughed  so  incontinently 
at  Mr.  Mathews's  acting,  as  to  return  home  in  a  state  of 
such  exhaustion,  that  it  ended  in  severe  illness,  produced,  as 
the  medical  man  averred,  from  an  over-excitement,  of  which 
she  died  !  Mr.  Mathews,  half  shocked,  half  flattered,  was  glad 
to  forget  the  part  he  was  said  to  have  had  in  the  death  of  the 
poor  young  lady  (who  most  probably  had  carried  her  hillet  with 
her  to  the  theatre,  as  few  people  die  of  laughing,  although 
many  "have  thought  they  should  do  so"),  and  eagerly  yielded 
to  a  suggestion  which  this  man's  appearance  and  recent 
errand  had  occasioned.  Accordingly,  promising  him  half-a- 
crown,  he  engaged  him  to  act  a  subordinate  part  in  the  comedy 
of  "  The  Eeprisal,"  which  Theodore's  freak  justified  his  brotherly 
wish  to  "  get  up"  for  his  benefit.  This  settled,  Mr.  Mathews  re- 
turned to  the  coffee-room,  where  the  young  madman  was  carrying 
on  the  joke  quietly  enough,  having,  it  seemed,  enjoyed  a  lucid 
interval.  But  the  return  of  his  cruel  brother  brought  on  another 
violent  paroxysm,  and  no  expostulation  could  abate  his  resistance 
of  all  rational  control ;  on  the  contrary,  soothing  seemed  to  increase 
his  violence.  At  last  his  brother  declared,  that  if  he  was  not 
more  obedient  and  resigned,  he  would  resort  to  stronger  measures, 
Snd  send  him  back  to  London  in  a  manner  he  would  not  like. 
This  intimation  only  added  to  his  outrageous  behaviour  :  he  was 
threatened  with  confinement,  and  told  that  a  hearse  was  in 
•waiting  to  receive  him,  no  other  conveyance  being  attainable ; 
and  that  he  should  be  placed  in  that  unless  he  became  quiet. 
This  threat  produced  no  amendment,  for,  of  course,  it  was  received 
as  a  feint  by  the  incorrigible  maniac.  However,  at  last,  the 
elder  brother  took  a  cord,  from  his  pocket,  with  which  he  tied 
Theodore's  hands  behind  him ;  who,  having  no  suspicion  of  the 
truth,  favoured  the  act,  while  seeming  to  resist  it.     This  arrange- 


144  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

merit  being  made,  at  a  given  signal  in  stalked  the  little  fat  man 
in  black,  whip  in  hand,  and  streaming  hat-band,  and  with  a 
solemn,  grave  air,  proclaimed,  "  The  hearse  is  ready,  sir."  For 
a  moment  the  unfortunate  captive  looked  at  this  messenger  of 
woe  with  distrust.  But  again  recollecting  how  impossible  the 
reality  could  be,  he  tamely  allowed  himself  to  be  led  out  of  the 
room,  in  apparent  submission  to  his  brother's  arrangement,  and 
proceeded  peaceably  down  the  long  passage  to  the  inn-door. 
Here,  however,  the  sight  of  the  hearse,  ready  to  admit  him,  and 
the  little  man  holding  the  door  open  with  his  right  hand,  respect- 
fully dangling  his  hat  and  band  from  the  other,  gave  the  lunatic 
such  a  shock,  that  suddenly  releasing  himself  from  his  keeper's 
hold,  he  darted  up  the  street  (his  hands  still  bound),  with  a  hue 
and  cry  after  him,  his  unfortunate  relation  and  friends  following 
up  the  pursuit. 

Luckily  for  Theodore,  he  was  tall  and  slim,  with  great  agility 
of  limb,  so  that  he  fairly  distanced  the  hobnails  of  his  pursuers, 
and  sheltering  himself  amongst  some  trees  at  the  edge  of  the 
town,  waited  calmly  for  his  friends,  who  he  believed  would  not 
carry  their  barbarity  so  far  as  to  leave  him  there  long,  or  suffer 
the  peojple  who  had  first  followed  him  to  remain  at  the  head  of 
the  pursuit.  In  short,  as  he  anticipated,  his  party  "  came  at 
last  to  comfort  him  ;"  they  unbound  his  refractory  arms,  and  all 
had  their  laugh  fairly  out  at  the  consternation  they  had  left  be- 
hind them.  After  this  they  dined  at  another  inn,  and  became 
rational  for  the  rest  of  the  day. 

It  had  been  the  custom  to  go  to  the  theatre  of  the  place  on 
the  evenings  of  these  days ;  and  therefore  on  this  particular  oc- 
casion the  custom  was  not  omitted.  The  play  was  "  The  School 
for  Friends,"  in  which,  it  may  be  remembered,  Mr.  Mathews  was 
the  original  Matthew  Daw.  He  was  naturally  desirous  on  this 
occasion  that  his  party  should  behave  with  great  decorum,  as  it 
would  have  been  painful  to  him  to  have  his  humbler  brethren  of 
the  sock  and  buskin  suppose  that  he  had  come  with  a  party 
"  to  flout  at  their  solemnities  ;"  and  he  could  hardly  expect  to 
be  altogether  unknown  to  them.  Mr.  Hook,  however,  was  not 
in  a  mood  to  be  everything  his  friend  wished ;  besides,  he  had 
a  blow  to  return,  a  debt  to  pay  incurred  on  his  account  for  man 
and  hearse.  He  therefore  talked  loud,  laughed  during  the 
serious  scenes,  and  wept  at  the  comic  ones,  &c.  At  last,  my 
husband,  feeling  nervous,  crept  away  from  his  party,  and  went 
to  the  upper  box  opposite  (the  only  place  in  which  he  could  find 
a  seat).     Here  he  congratulated  himself  upon  being  separated 


I 


CHAKLES  MATHEWS,  14d 

from  the  noisy  set  below,  and  believed  that  he  was  completely 
out  of  their  ken.  Unluckily,  the  performer  of  the  Quaker 
{Mattheio  Daio)  excited  Theodore's  risible  propensities — not  in 
the  sense  where  laughing  is  a  compliment  —  when  suddenly 
Hook's  eye  caught  that  of  Mr.  Mathews,  who  had  escaped  to 
what  he  hoped  was  security  against  any  implication  in  his 
friend's  proceedings.  Theodore  now  arose,  and  standing  in  the 
front  of  the  box,  bowed  with  great  respect  and  gravity  ;  addressing 
the  audience  and  begging  their  attention  to  a  few  words,  he 

said,  "  Ladies  and  gentlemen,  you  are  pleased  with  Mr. , 

the  performer  of  the  Quaker,  who  has  hitherto  deservedly  met 
with  your  approval  in  that  character ;  but  I  cannot  allow  you 
to  be  ignorant  that  Mr.  Mathews,  the  original  performer  of 
Matthew  Daw,  is  now  in  this  theatre.  The  modesty  insepa- 
rable from  real  merit  has  induced  him  to  conceal  himself  in  a 
retired  situation ;  but,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  if  you  will  look  up 
to  the  top  of  the  house,  on  your  left  hand,  you  will  see  him 
sitting  in  that  corner"  (pointing  his  finger  to  the  exact  spotj. 

What  my  husband  felt  at  this  moment  may  be  imagined.  He 
declared  to  me  that  he  could  not  have  risen  from  his  seat  had 
he  expected  to  be  shot  for  remaining  in  it.  The  effect  upon  the 
audience,  chiefly  clodpoles  and  market-people,  was  merely  a 
vacant  stare  up  to  the  corner  to  which  they  were  directed,  for 
the  name  of  Mathews  was  evidently  strange  to  them,  and  no 
positive  idea  was  conveyed  by  the  mention  of  it.  One  Matthew 
Daw  was  as  good  to  them  as  another,  and  thus  it  is  probable 
they  would  have  thought  that  he  of  Croydon  Fair  was  the  best, 
had  an  opportunity  been  given  to  them  of  judging  of  their  com- 
parative merits. 

There  was  no  end  of  these  instances  of  frolicking,  and  Mr. 
IJook  could  never  resist  a  temptation  to  display  some  of  his 
inexhaustible  stock  of  humour  for  the  entertainment  of  his  com- 
panions.    I  will  give  another  instance. 

Mr.  Mathews  was  one  day  driving  him  towards  Blackheath, 
and  at  the  approach  to  Shooter's  Hill  the  merciful  owner  of  the 
horse  wished  that  he  and  his  friend  Theodore  should  descend 
from  the  gig  and  walk  up  the  steepest  part  of  it.  As  they  were 
proceeding  with  this  humane  intent,  a  sort  of  ancient  vehicle, 
called,  for  want  of  a  more  definite  character,  "  a  one-horse 
chaise,"  upon  four  wheels,  appeared,  slowly  descending  the 
steep.  It  was  an  unusually  cumbrous  and  large-headed  car- 
riage, and  more  remarkable  in  that  day,  when  smart  single- 
horse  carriages  had  long  superseded  such  lumbering  conveyances. 

L 


146  THE  LIFE  AND  COERESPONDENCE  OF 

The  first  notice  of  the  approach  of  this  vehicle  was  a  loud  laugh 
from  Theodore,  before,  however,  he  was  Dear  enough  to  be  heard 
by  the  driver.  The  old  and  new  carriages  now  approached.  The 
one  ascending  paused  in  order  to  give  its  horse  time  to  recover 
his  pull ;  and  at  this  moment  Mr.  Hook  placed  himself  immedi- 
ately in  front  of  the  large,  awkward,  yet  well-cared-for  animal 
that  was  sustaining  the  enormous  machine  alluded  to,  and  which 
was  occupied  by  a  very  old  man  and  woman,  coeval  as  it  seemed 
with  their  carriage.  When  they  found  their  modest  and  in- 
offensive progress  interfered  with,  they  stared  in  silence  at  the 
cause  of  such  impediment.  Mr.  Hook,  with  great  respect,  took 
off  his  hat,  and  bowiing  to  the  old  lady  and  gentleman  (for  such 
they  evidently  were),  inquired  whether  it  was  really  their  inten- 
tion to  enter  London  in  that  carriage  ?  The  driver,  unwilling 
to  be  behindhand  in  courtesy,  politel}^  took  off  his  hat  also,  and 
answered  that  "  he  certahily  was  proceeding  to  London."  Mr. 
Hook,  then  assuming  the  tone  and  language  of  a  man  who  was 
unwilling  to  see  his  fellow- creatures  betrayed  into  a  position 
that  was  likely  to  render  them  ridiculous,  asked  earnestly, 
"  whether  the  driver  was  aware  of  the  consequences  of  entering 
the  metropolis  in  such  a  conveyance  ?"  apprising  him,  that  such  a 
one  had  not  been  seen  there  for  the  last  century.  The  old 
gentleman  looked  at  his  wife,  amazed  and  perplexed,  but  con- 
tinued silent.  His  kind  adviser,  still  at  the  horse's  head,  again 
remonstrated  against  their  progress,  declaring  that  the  gentle- 
man would  repent  it  if  he  persevered,  and  conjured  the  old  lady 
to  influence  her  husband  to  turn  back.  The  old  people  looked 
at  each  other  again  earnestly.  The  gentleman  seemed  para- 
lysed with  amazement  at  such  an  address,  when  his  intrepid 
adviser,  giving  a  searching  look  under  the  hood  where  the  two 
faces  were  ensconced,  started  back  with  affected  surprise,  and 
exclaimed  aloud  to  his  companion,  who  had  been  silently  won- 
dering at  the  nerve  which  enabled  him  to  make  such  an  attack, 
"  Now  I  look  again,  the  man  and  woman  are  greater  gigs  than 
the  buggy !  Oh,"  continued  he,  addressing  the  travellers 
more  resolutely,  "  you  really  must  not  proceed.  Allow  me  to 
turn  your  nag's  head  round."  He  then  suited  the  action  to  the 
word,  leading  Dobbin  a  short  distance  up  the  hill  again,  who, 
nothing  loth  to  retrace  his  way  home,  struggled  upwards,  without 
any  obvious  attempt  from  his  master  to  prosecute  his  first  design 
of  proceeding  to  town.  How  the  old  gentleman  ultimately  settled 
the  matter  with  himself  and  his  wife  was  not  known,  as  his 
saucy  director  remounted  his  friend's  light  conveyance,  and  could 


CHAKLES  MATHEWS.  147 

only  look  back  a  brief  period,  when  certainly  the  headed  chaise 
was  slowly  following  them. 

But  I  must  not  attempt  to  set  down  all  I  could  tell  of  this 
extraordinary  and  always  amusing  result  of  leisure  and  love  of 
"  fun,"  coupled  with  an  excess  of  animal  spirits.  I  understand 
Mr.  Hook,  in  riper  years,  has  turned  to  good  account  these 
frolics  of  his  "  green  and  salad  days"  in  his  papers  of  "Gilbert 
Grurney,"  which  I  have  never  seen  in  a  collected  form;  but  in 
the  numbers  I  have  read  I  have  found  one  or  two  of  his  former 
drolleries  (there  ascribed  to  Mr.  Daly),  and  to  the  masterly  hand 
of  the  original  I  refer  the  curious  for  a  better  version  of  those 
anecdotes  than  my  poor  pen  can  furnish. 


l2 


148  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


CHAPTEE  XIV. 

Mr.  Mathews  in  Maw-worm — Origin  of  the  sermon  from  the  screen,  in  "The 
Hypocrite" — The  Four-in-hand  Club — Farce  of  "  Hit  or  Miss" — Offer  from 
Mr.  Arnold — Re-opening  of  the  Lyceum  Theatre — Cottage  at  Fulham— 
Proposal  from  Mr.  Elliston — Mr.  Mathews's  reception  at  Liverpool. 

0?r  the  25th  of  September,  1809,  the  Lyceum  opened,  under  the 
h'cence  of  the  Lord  Chamberlain,  and  the  joint  management  of 
Messrs.  Arnold  and  Raymond.*  The  success  was  very  great, 
but  more  confirmed  as  the  season  advanced. 

All  theatrical  people  and  play-goers  will  remember  the  great 
effect  produced  by  the  revival  on  this  occasion,  after  thirty  years, 
of  the  comedy  of  "  The  Hypocrite,"  and  the  fine  acting  which 
made  it  so  popular  and  attractive.  I  am  justified  in  asserting 
that  Mr.  Mathews's  Maw-worm  stood  next  in  comic  excellence 
and  truth  to  Mr.  Dowton's  exquisite  performance  of  Doctor 
Cantwell,  The  following  testimony  of  the  general  impression 
bears  out  my  assertion : 

Ziyceum  Theatre. 

Mr.  Mathews  kept  the  house  in  a  roar  of  laughter  by  his  apt  manage- 
ment of  Maw-worm.  It  was  an  admirable  representation  of  "  Praise 
God  Barebones," — an  exact  portraiture  of  one  of  those  ignorant  en- 
thusiasts who  lose  sight  of  all  good  while  they  are  vainly  hunting  after 
an  ideal  perfectibility. 

Mrs.  Edwin  and '  Mrs.  Orger  were  the  Charlotte  and  Young 
Lady  Lambert.  These  two  beautiful  women  and  accomplished 
actresses,  by  their  excellent  performance,  made  the  comedy 
perfect.  In  order  to  complete  this  account  of  the  performance 
of  "  The  Hypocrite,"  it  may  be  best  to  introduce  here  one  of 
the  detached  portions  of  my  husband's  Autobiography  : 

At  this  period  spencers  came  into  wear.f  To  those  w^io  may  not 
remember  the  fashion,  it  may  be  necessary  to  describe  this  curious 

*  Mr.  Arnold,  the  son  of  Doctor  Arnold,  the  musical  composer. 
+  Introduced,  I  believe,  by  Lord  Spencer  for  a  wager,  he  having  asserted, 
■while  commenting  on  the  absurdities  of  fashion,  that  if  any  person  of  con- 


CHAKLES  MATHEWS.  149 

coatee.  It  was  a  garment  calculated  only  to  guard  the  upper  portion  of 
the  person  from  cold.  It  buttoned  close  up  to  the  throat,  but  extended 
no  further  down  than  the  hips,  the  skirts  being  entirely  omitted,  and 
the  lower  man  necessarily  lett  unguarded;  it  was,  therefore,  of  course 
only  calculated  for  pedestrians.  It  was  a  lucky  fancy  for  the  actors, 
who  profited  by  the  fiishion.  Bannister  made  the  first  hit  in  "  The 
Prize,"  when,  on  being  asked  where  his  tailor  lived,  he  replied,  "  Upon 
the  skirts  of  the  town." 

The  mountebanks^  of  the  conventicle  took  advantage  of  it  also,  and 
made  their  hits.  I  once  heard  one  of  the  unwashed  tribe  utter  an 
elegant  and  appropriate  sarcasm  upon  the  raging  folly.  So  fleeting  is 
the  fame  of  an  actor,  that  there  are  but  few  even  of  my  own  acquaint- 
ance, and  those  principally  behind  the  scenes,  who  are  aware  that  this 
accidental  circumstance  gave  rise  to  "  the  sermon,"  as  it  is  called,  which 
is  now  supposed  by  the  unread  in  the  drama  to  be  part  and  parcel  of 
the  play  of  "  The  Hypocrite ;"  and  that  my  excellent  Iriend,  Liston,  is 
entirely  indebted  to  me  for  giving  him  the  hint  to  perform  Maw-worm^ 
since  made  his  own,  and  on  which  a  part  of  his  well-earned  fame  has 
been  founded.  On  my  secession  from  the  regular  drama,  in  consequence 
of  my  unfortunate  accident,  he  took  a  fancy  to  this  part ;  but  I  shall 
relate  the  circumstance  to  which  I  allude.  The  play  was  revived  after 
the  destruction  of  Drury-lane  Theatre  by  fire,  at  the  Lyceum,  to  which 
theatre  the  company  were  driven  in  their  distress ;  and  "  being  burnt 
out  from  over  the  way,"  the  business  was  carried  on  there — Dowton,  Dr, 
Canttoell.  It  was  a  complete  hit.  My  early  knowledge  of  the  family  ot 
the  Maw-worms  gave  me  an  opportunity  of  depicting  with  truth,  at  all 
events,  the  tones  and  manners  of  such  a  character.  It  was  highly 
effective ;  but  as  the  author,  or  rather  translator,  Bickerstaff*,  has  given 
him  only  one  scene  in  the  play — for  the  few  lines  in  the  last  are  so 
tri^ng  that  he  is  almost  a  cipher — I  was  discontented  with  the  insig- 
nificant situation  in  the  concluding  scene,  and  made  bold  to  try  an 
experiment,  directly  in  the  teeth  of  the  advice  of  my  immortal 
instructor,  who  says,  "  Let  your  clowns  say  no  more  than  is  set  down 
for  them."  Finding  our  play  firmly  established  with  the  public,  I 
concocted  a  speech  or  harangue ;  and  cautiously  keeping  my  secret,  I 
quietly  retired  one  night  (the  third  or  fourth  of  its  run)  from  the 
characters  concerned  with  Cantwell,  when  he  boldly  declares  himself  to 
be  a  villain,  and  at  his  exit  suddenly  presented  myself  behind  the 
screen,  perched  on  a  table  which  I  had  caused  to  be  placed  there,  and, 
to  the  amazement  of  my  brother  actors,  bawled  out,  exactly  in  the  tone 
of  dear  old  daddy  Berridge — * 

*'  Stay,  ye  infatuated  wretches !  ye  know  not  what  ye  do !  the  doctor 

dition  were  to  appear  in  only  the  upper  part  of  his  coat,  the  whimsical  ex- 
ample would  be  followed. 

*  This  sermon  is  put  down  from  memory,  a  blank  being  left  in  Mr, 
Mathews's  manuscript  where  it  ought  to  have  been,  and  Mr.  Listou,  who 
has  kindly  furnished  me  with  it,  is  in  doubt  whether  he  has  recollected  the 
whole  J  but  I  can  answer  for  that  portion  given  being  correct . 


150  THE  LIFE  AND  CORKESPONDENCE  OF 

is  innocent !  Touch  not  a  hair  of  his  precious  head — do  not  ruffle  a 
curl  of  his  gracious  wig !  I  repeat,  he  is  innocent !  But  ye  will  be 
the  sufferers  !  I  have  one  great* — one  glorious  consoldL-ation  !  ye  will 
all  go  to  the  devil  for  what  ye  are  doing  !  This  is  my  consoh-ation  ; 
and  when  it  is  too  late,  ye  will  repent.  When  ye  see  me  mount  and 
leave  ye  to  your  fate,  ye  will  want  my  aid.  Ye  will  cling  to  me — ye 
will  try  to  lay  hold  of  the  skirts  of  my  coat ;  hut  I  will  fling  ye  alii 
for  I  will  wear  a  Spencer  /" 

So  great  was  the  effect  at  this  unexpected  address,  that  it  was  ever 
after  an  indispensable  feature ;  and  such  was  the  reputation  of  our 
revival  of  the  play  in  London,  that  Dowton,  Mrs.  Edwin,  and  myself, 
were  engaged  to  act  the  three  characters  at  Liverpool.  This  sermon, 
as  it  has  since  been  designated,  was  of  course  expected  and  delivered. 
Powerful  as  the  effect  had  been  in  London,  it  was  tame,  compared  to 
the  extraordinary  sensation  it  created  at  Liverpool.  I  was  quite  unpre- 
pared for  such  uproarious  demonstrations  of  delight,  and  at  a  loss  to 
account  for  their  expression — roars  of  laughter,  cries  of  bravo,  and  at 
length  encore.  This  was  the  first  time  the  speech  had  been  so  honoured 
(though  the  precedent  was  followed  in  London  on  my  return).  The 
repetition  of  the  play  was  as  loudly  called  for,  and  the  call  was  fre- 
quently obeyed.  Upon  my  leaving  the  stage  (the  first  night),  the 
proprietor,  Mr.  Lewis,  shook  me  by  the  hand,  congratulated  me  on  this 
hit,  and  said,  "  What  a  lucky  thought !  who  put  it  into  your  head  ? 
where  did  you  hear  of  him  ?"  "  Whom  ?"  said  I.  "  Why,  Spencer." 
"  Of  Spencer,"  said  I ;  "  why,  you  don't  understand  my  point.  It  is 
an  allusion  to  an  ephemeral  fashion  of  twenty-five  years  back ;  and  you 
imagined  that  I  was  personal  ?"  "  Why,  of  course  I  did,"  replied  he. 
"  Are  you  really  ignorant,  then,  of  the  fact ;  and  is  this  only  a  singular 
coincidence  ?  Perhaps  the  most  popular  dissenting  preacher  ever  known 
in  Liverpool  is  at  this  moment  drawing  together  the  most  crowded 
congregations  in  the  largest  chapel  in  the  town,  and  his  name  is 
Spencer;  and  the  regular  church-goers  thought  it  a  most  excellent  hit, 
and  have  applauded  it  accordingly,"  I  had  never  heard  of  him,  and 
certainly  the  accidental  circumstance  was  curious.  "  Never  mind,"  said 
he ;  "  we  shall  have  as  many  overflows  as  Spencer."  When  my  lame- 
ness gave  me  small  hopes  of  return  to  the  stage,  Listen  expressed  to 
me  his  wish  to  act  Maw-worm  in  the  country,  as  he  was  then  going  a 
tour,  but  was  surprised,  upon  reading  the  part  as  printed,  to  find  how 
inefficient  it  was  without  the  extra  aid  of  my^  screen  harangue,  he 
himself  hardly  being  aware  of  my  being  the  first  interpolator.  I  then 
furnished  him  with  the  address  I  had  uttered,  and  which  has  gained 
him  such  notoriety.  But  I  have  often  smiled  bitterly  at  the  evanescent 
nature  of  an  actor's  fame.  A  short  period  only  was  necessary  to  cause 
the  effect  to  be  forgotten  which  I  certainly  had  originally  produced  in 
that  character  both  in  and  out  of  London,  and  which  I  had  flattered 
myself  would  not  so  soon  fail  to  be  remembered,  for  it  certainly  was  a 

*  The  lines  in  italics  are  those  quoted  from  the  preacher  mentioned  by  Mr. 
Mathews. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  151 

portrait  from  the  life.  I  have  repeatedly  been  amused  since  hy  questions 
on  the  subject,  such  as,  "  Did  you  ever  see  Listen  in  Maw-worm  T* 
and  "  Of  course,  you  have  heard  him  preach  his  sermon  ?  I'm  told 
there  never  was  anything  but  a  song  encored  before  that  speech.  Is  it 
true  that  he  was  the  first  that  ever  thought  of  it,  and  that  it  is  not  in 
the  play  ?  They  say  Weston  did  not  introduce  it."  Others  have  said, 
**  I  believe  Liston  was  the  original  Maw-worm.'* 


At  this  period  the  mania  for  driving  "  four-in-hand"  was  at 
its  acme.  A  certain  number  of  gentlemen  formed  themselves 
into  a  society,  called,  in  the  slang  of  the  day,  the  "  Bang-up 
Club."  The  members  of  it  were  men  of  fashion,  and  generally 
l)ossessing  large  fortunes.  They  had  carriages  built  like  stage- 
coaches, which  they  drove  themselves,  and  to  preclude  the  sus- 
picion of  any  sordid  motive  for  so  doing,  each  gentleman  allowed 
his  coachman  to  sit  on  his  left-hand  upon  the  box,  with  the 
privilege  of  witnessing,  at  his  ease,  his  master's  skill  in  "  handling 
the  ribands."  These  carnages  were  not  "licensed  to  carry"  even 
one  inside,  and  in  order  to  satisfy  everybody  upon  this  point,  the 
blinds  were  invariably  drawn  up. 

The  costume  of  each  gentleman  consisted  of  a  bottle-green 
body-coat,  a  milk-white  double-breasted  great-coat  reaching  to 
the  heels,  several  large  capes,  and  buttons  of  mother-of-pearl,  as 
lar^  as  crown-pieces;  a  many-flowered  bouquet  in  a  button-hole 
at  the  side ;  upon  the  head  a  low-crowned  broad-brimmed  hat, 
with  a  broad  riband  and  buckle,  the  hair  sleeked  down  under  it, 
coachman-like.  On  certain  days,  the  members  of  the  "  Four-in- 
hand  Club"  met  at  their  leader's  door,  and  proceeded  with  their 
vehicles  to  Salthill,  or  some  other  agreeable  place  within  a  drive, 
to  dine  and  return  at  night.  Their  horses  were  of  the  most  per- 
fectly beautiful  kind  that  could  be  purchased. 

It  was  not  to  be  expected  that  those  who  catcli  "  the  manners 
living  as  they  rise,"  could  overlook  this  extraordinary  furore 
while  it  raged,  and  a  farce  called  "  Hit  or  Miss"  was  produced 
from  the  pen  of  Mr.  Pocock,  with  a  mere  outline  (as  it  often 
happened)  for  Mr.  Mathews  to  fill  up.  His  character  was  of 
course  the  one  that  touched  upon  the  peculiarities  of  the  club, 
and  he  presented  a  faithful  copy  of  its  dress,  using  all  the  slang 
of  that  day,  which  I  fear  was  too  often  employed  at  the  time  by 
those  not  "  unto  the  manner  born."  It  was,  however,  very 
amusing  in  itself,  and  the  character  of  Dick  Cypher  was  a 
faithful  copy  of  a  young  man  of  good  family  (then  in  the  law), 
who  contrived  to  mix  up  this  jargon  with  the  most  gentleman- 


]  52  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

like  manner  and  character.  He  was  delighted  at  Mr.  Mathews's 
representing  him  in  this  anonymous  way,  and  furnished  him  with 
most  of  the  terms  used.  It  was  a  fair  hit  at  "  the  fancy."  The 
members  of  the  club  took  this  "  show  up"  with  great  good 
humour.  When  the  piece  was  in  its  first  attraction,  they  some- 
times invited  Mr.  Mathews  to  accompany  them  in  their  drives, 
when  in  their  full  costume  and  cavalcade,  and  he  generally  was 
preferred  to  a  seat  on  the  box,  for  which  the  nominal  coach- 
man was  displaced — nay,  they  seemed  as  if  they  were  anxious 
to  prove  that  his  representation  of  them  had  not  given  offence. 

Notwithstanding  this,  it  is  not  improbable  that  this  pointed 
though  inoffensive  satire  caused  a  more  speedy  termination  of 
this  extraordinary  whim  than  would  otherwise  have  taken 
place,  and  perhaps  gave  the  club  an  excuse  for  dropping  an 
expense  which  even  to  men  of  large  fortune  must  have  been  felt 
as  enormous. 

The  great  feature  of  the  whole  of  Mr.  Mathews's  represen- 
tation, however,  was  the  "  Prime  Bang-up  "  song,  which 
remained  popular  until  its  point  was  succeeded  by  some  newer 
fashion  of  expression  amongst  the  ingenious  inventors  of  such 
quaint  vocabularies. 

The  ensuing  month  brought  the  following  reiterated  offer 
from  Mr.  Arnold. 

To  Mr.  Mathews. 

Sept.  7th,  1810,  31,  Golden -square. 

Dear  Sib, — The  Lord  Chamberlain  having  renewed  the  licence 
granted  last  season  to  Mr.  T.  Sheridan,  myself,  and  Mr.  Greville,  for 
the  benefit  of  the  Driiry-lane  concern,  and  which  was  obtained  with  the 
consent  and  approbation  of  the  trustees  of  that  property ;  I  have  the 
pleasure  again  to  offer  you  and  Mrs.  Mathews  an  engagement,  and 
have  only  delayed  repeating  that  offer  until  those  difficulties  were 
removed  which  induced  you  to  decline  two  former  invitations,  and  which 
I  am  happy  to  understand  no  longer  exist. 

I  am,  dear  sir,  very  truly  yours,        S.  J.  Arnold. 

At  the  close  of  the  Hay  market,  the  reopening  of  the  Lyceum 
found  Mr.  Mathews  there  for  a  time,  in  pursuance  of  his  original 
undertaking,  and  he  was  rapturously  greeted  on  his  reappear- 
ance in  Maw-worm.  On  this  moderately-sized  stage,  as  at  the 
Haymarket,  his  acting  was  seen  to  most  advantage ;  for  at  this 
period,  perhaps,  his  manner  had  not  acquired  breadth  sufficient, 
or  his  voice  enough  power,  to  fill  the  vast  sphere  he  appeared  in 
during  the   former   winter  seasons ;    yet,  notwithstanding   his 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  153 

growing  popularity,  he  still  retained  his  resolution  to  quit  the 
present  management.  To  one  accustomed  to  the  old  regime, 
the  new  seemed  divested  of  all  comfort  and  distinction  ;  besides 
which,  his  circumstances  demanded  that  he  should  make  a  bold 
effort  to  set  himself  free  from  some  pecuniary  difficulties,  which 
at  the  beginning  of  this  year  had  crept  over  him  imperceptibly. 
These  difficulties  were  occasioned  by  the  somewhat  inconsiderate 
purchase  of  a  cottage,  which,  in  his  overweening  love  for  a  rural 
residence,  he  had  prematurely  bought  of  General  Bradshaw,  in 
the  King's-road,  Fulham,  although  he  could  not  conceal  from 
himself  that  the  first  outlay  and  expense  of  supporting  it  must 
inevitably  prevent  him  from  enjoying  it  except  by  snatches. 
To  this  was  added  the  resignation  of  one  third  of  his  regular 
income  in  London,  owing  to  my  retirement  from  the  stage  at 
the  end  of  the  last  Haymarket  season — a  circumstance  which, 
however  desirable  as  a  matter  of  feeling  to  us  both,  was 
altogether  imprudent.  Mr.  Mathews,  it  is  true,  had  long 
meditated  taking  me  from  the  stage,  my  unconquerable  timidity 
having  always  rendered  it  a  painful  pursuit  to  me  ;  and,  after 
the  unfortunate  fire  at  Drury-lane  Theatre,  the  new  interests 
and  mfluences  which  came  into  play,  decided  the  long-pending 
question  as  to  my  retirement ;  and  I  quitted  the  stage. 

When  his  term  at  the  Lyceum  expired,  he  set  off  to  his 
several  engagements  in  Liverpool,  Ireland,  &c.,  leaving  me  in  a 
sort  of  Noah's  Ark,  which  sheltered  every  bird  and  beast  that 
he  could  collect  before  he  went.  His  benefit  at  the  Lyceum,  on 
the  3rd  of  June,  proved  good :  on  that  occasion  he  performed 
Trudge  in  "  Inkle  and  Yarico;"  a  scene  from  "My  Grandmother," 
in  which  he  played  Dicky  Gossip,  after  the  manner  of  the  late 
Mr.  Suett;  and  in  the  afterpiece  of  "The  Critic,"  the  two 
widely-differing  characters  of  Pm^  and  Sir  Fretful  Plagiary  ;* 
but  his  receipts,  though  liberal  lor  a  small  theatre,  were  not 
more  than  sufficient  to  liquidate  a  portion  of  the  claims  which 
an  inadequate  income  too  often  creates  where  youth  is  uncalcu- 
lating  and  generous,  and  when  there  is  little  judgment  and  less 
experience  to  direct  good  principle  and  honest  intention. 

As  soon  as  Mr.  Mathews's  intention  of  not  returnins'  to  the 
Lyceum  was  announced  (that  being  then  the  only  regular  winter 
theatre),  he  received  divers  proposals  and  applications  ;  amongst 
them,  one  from  Mr.  EUiston,  who,  after  the  fire  at  Drury-lane, 
had  headed  a  minor  establishment  of  his  own.* 

*  Since  distinguished  as  **  Madame  Vestris'  Royal  Olympic  Theatre." 


154  TFIE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

To  Mr.  diaries  Mathews. 

April  6th,  1811. 

Deah  Mathews, — I  have  reconsidered  our  conversation  of  Thursday 
evening,  and  it' you  are  serious  upon  the  matter  as  i"ara,  the  affair  may 
be  brought  to  a  speedy  decision. 

By  the  period  of  the  close  of  the  Lyceum  Theatre,  I  will  have  a  piece 
ready,  in  which  your  particular  powers  shall  be  shown  to  the  best  ad- 
vantage, and  I  shall  require  your  efforts  for  a  space  of  six  weeks ;  for 
which  period  I  will  give  you  50Z.  per  week,  and  a  100/!.  note  for  the 
advantage  of  your  name  at  a  benefit,  you  giving  me  all  tlie  assistance 
you  may  be  pleased  to  make  for  the  advantage  of  my  receipt  on  that 
night.  I  trust  this  proposal  will  be  as  liberal  as  you  can  have 
expected;  and  if  no  impediment  beyond  a  pecuniary  consideration 
should  arise,  I  shall  be  very  willing  to  close  the  negociation  as  speedily 
as  possible,  that  proper  preparation  may  be  made  for  your  appearance 
on  the  boards  of  my  theatre. 

Yours  truly,  E.  W.  Elliston. 

It  may  be  asked  vihy  Mr.  Mathews,  under  his  circumstances, 
rejected  such  obviously  liberal  terms.  The  answer  simply  is,  that 
he  did  not  choose  to  appear  in  any  except  the  patent  theatres, 
and  in  the  regular  drama,  which  hitherto  he  had  seen  sustained 
with  a  reputation  which  had,  it  is  true,  received  a  shock,  but, 
which  he  believed  was  not  overthrown ;  and  he  was  too  fond  of 
his  profession  to  do  anything  that  he  conceived  would  disgrace  a, 
first-rate  professor.  At  the  period  to  which  I  allude  the  drama 
was  considered,  even  by  the  nobility  and  the  fashionable  world, 
not  quite  as  a  matter  of  indifference.  Such  being  the  respect 
in  which  the  legitimate  drama  was  held  by  the  public,  Mr. 
Mathews  felt  his  own  position  in  it  ought  to  be  maintained  ; 
and  he,  therefore,  persisted  in  his  scheme  of  visiting  the 
•►provinces  rather  than  retrograde  in  London.  Accordingly,  in 
June  he  acted  at  Liverpool,  where  he  had  not  appeared  since 
his  first  engagement  there  in  the  season  of  1803,  and  then  as 
one  of  the  regular  company. 

On  the  21st  he  commenced  this  engagement,  and  his  reception 
was  not  the  less  warm,  it  may  be  supposed,  in  consequence  of 
the  increased  approval  of  a  London  audience  since  his  first 
appearance  in  that  town.  Indeed,  his  matured  powers  were 
rapturously  acknowledged;  and  in  his  many  subsequent  visits 
to  Liverpool  his  popularity  was  to  the  tnd  unimpaired. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS  155 


CHAPTER  XV. 


Actors'  lives — Mr.  Mathews's  letters  from  Liverpool  and  Dublin — His  first 
appearance  in  Ireland,  1794 — The  Irish  Barber,  &c. 

It  is  a  popular  error  that  actors  earn  their  money  easily,  and 
that  no  labour  attends  their  vocation.  This  mistake  has  led 
many  an  idle,  unqualified  person  into  the  profession,  and  after- 
wards upon  the  profession,  in  the  way  of  charity.  According  to 
the  preceding  letter,  in  a  moderate  morning's  work  four  hours 
ar<r  occupied  in  the  wear  and  tear  of  mental  as  well  as  bodily 
power  ;  and  in  the  evening,  from  six  till  twelve  the  performer's 
mind  and  person  are  again  upon  the  continual  stretch  of  anxiety 
and  fatigue.  Ten  hours  out  of  the  common  labourer's  term  for 
work  are  here  accounted  for,  but  it  often  happens  that  the  whole 
twelve  are  so  occupied ;  in  addition  to  which,  many,  after  their 
long  day  and  night  of  toil  and  excitement,  are  under  the  necessity 
of  stealing  hours  from  requisite  repose,  in  order  to  acquire  matter 
for  future  occasion.  Little  wonder  should  there  be  that  so  few 
excel,  when  olten  there  is  scarcely  time  allowed  for  more  than 
learning  the  words  of  their  characters.  How,  then,  can  study, 
without  which  excellence  was  never  attained,  or  popularity  pre- 
served, be  expected  ?  It  is  a  common  observation  of  simple 
people,  after  witnessing  any  striking  performance  of  length  (and 
this  was  often  apphed  to  Mr.  Mathews's  pecuhar  talent),  "I 
wonder  how  he  remembers  it  all."  They  should  rather  wonder 
how  he  found  time  in  the  first  instance  to  become  acquainted 
with  what  his  memory  afterwards  furnished  to  his  hearers.  Mr. 
Mathews's  habit,  from  his  earliest  professional  life,  was  to  sit  up 
all  night,  and  as  many  nights  as  he  found  it  requisite,  to  study 
for  an3^  particular  purpose  ;  for  he  really  studied.  Can  it  be  a 
matter,  then,  of  surprise  tliat  such  fatigue  should  at  last  show 
itself  in  a  complicated  form  ?  His  life  was  that  of  a  blacksmith, 
with  this  difference,  that  his  mind  constantly  lifted  a  hammer  as 
well  as  his  body. 

On  the  14th  of  July  Mr.  Mathews  arrived  in  Dublin,  his  first 
visit  there  since  the  days  of  his  boyhood  and  starvation  in  1794. 


156  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

The  "London  star,"  assured  as  he  had  been  for  a  long  time  by 
approving  audiences,  and  confirmed  in  talent  and  reputation,  felt 
less  exultation  at  the  expectation  of  his  present  reception  than 
when  first,  "  elate  and  gay,  he  stepped  forth  to  take  possession 
of  the  world,"  full  of  hope,  and  unsuspicious  of  the  struggles 
and  hardships  in  store  for  him.  His  own  letters  on  this  occasion 
are  all  I  possess  relative  to  his  reception  and  success  in  Ireland. 
It  is  remarkable,  that  during  the  whole  of  his  life  Mr.  Mathews 
collected,  and  preserved  with  the  nicest  care,  all  that  was  pub- 
lished, in  the  way  of  criticism,  of  other  principal  performers, 
but  never  sought  or  kept  anything  about  himself.  The  same 
negligence  was  shown  in  his  vast  collection  of  engravings.  He 
piqued  himself  upon  possessing  every  impression  extant  of  every 
print  representing  actors  and  actresses  generally,  from  the  days 
of  Shakspeare,  but  had  none  of  himself  but  what  happened  to 
have  been  sent  as  presents  from  artists  or  publishers,  so  that  I 
have  to  regret  that  I  do  not  possess  several  good  likenesses,  now 
not  easily  to  be  obtained,  as  well  as  much  matter  of  interest 
relating  to  him. 

Here  is  an  interesting  letter,  written  to  me  shortly  after  his 
arrival  in  Dublin, 

To  Mrs,  Mathews. 

Dublin,  July  18th,  1811. 

I  was  quite  in  raptures  at  the  sight  of  your  letters  this  morning, 
having  been  so  many  days  without  hearing  from  you.  You  are  the 
best  of  o:ood  wives  for  sending  me  such  a  long  letter :  it  was  quite  a 
treat.  1  have  delivered  the  General's  letter  this  morning.  I  am  gltid 
he  did  not  write  more,  for  my  only  misery  already  is  knowing  too  many 
people.  I  have  half  a  dc^^en  invitations  for  every  day,  but  I  select  the 
quiet  domestic  parties,  if  I  can.  I  have  renewed  my  acquaintance  with 
the  only  persons  I  knew  here  in  the  days  of  my  starvation,  and  who 

are  now  prosperous  people,  a  Mr,  and  Mrs.  H ;  he  French,  she 

Yorkshire.  I  went  with  them  yesterday  to  their  country  house  at 
Dunleary,  four  miles  from  Dublin,  in  one  of  the  most  enchanting  spots 
upon  earth.  I  cut  all  parties,  and  dined  with  them  alone.  Went  three 
miles  to  sea  in  the  evening  in  a  boat.  Fished  :  caught  whitings,  eels, 
flounders.  Incledon  and  I  have  no  trouble  in  providing,*  for  it  is 
impossible  to  dine  at  home.  At  present  I  am  only  acting  three  times  a 
week — pleasant  enough,  but  takes  up  too  much  of  my  time.  I  ex- 
pected Incledon  and  Mrs.  Dickons  would  act  together  about  four  nights, 
instead  of  which  they  act  the  alternate  nights — no  bad  compliment  to 
my  attractions.  My  first  night  was  better  than  any  of  theirs,  and  the 
best  stock  nightf  since  the  opening  in  the  winter.     But  here  there  is 

*  Mr.  Incledou,  who  had  taken  up  his  abode  at  the  same  hotel  with  him. 
+  Nights  that  ai-e  not  "  benefits." 


CHARLES  MATHEWJ5.  157 

nothing  but  croaking,  like  Liverpool.  "  All  ruined  ;" — "  hot  weather  ;'* 
— "  everybody  out  of  town,"  and  so  on.  However,  there  are  plenty 
left  to  come  to  the  theatre,  that  I  can  see.  I  opened  on  Tuesday  night 
in  Lord  Oglehy  and  Buskin.  The  former  went  as  well  as  I  could 
wish ;  but  in  the  farce,  I  can  only  say,  I  wish  you  had  been  there  to 
witness  it.  I  was  in  tip- top  spirits  with  my  reception,  and  played  my 
best.  The  account  I  gave  you  of  Liverpool  was  just  the  different 
calculation  between  the  warmth  of  English  and  Irish.  I  spoke  the 
line  from  Rolla — "  We  want  no  change !"  like  Kerable.  This  was  the 
first  signal  for  row.  It  is  no  exaggeration  to  say,  I  had  five  rounds  of 
applause.  Then  I  gave  them  a  touch  of  Lewis,  which  was  equally 
noticed ;  but  when  I  gave  them  his  "  whoop  !"  it  touched  the  proper 
chord,  for  it  is  precisely  the  noise  which  they  make  here  in  the  galleries 
when  they  are  more  than  usually  pleased.  It  was  immediately  echoed 
in  chorus,  and  at  my  exit  "A  clap  for  Mathyes!"  was  proposed,  and 
three  rounds  were  given.  In  the  next  scene  I  sung  "The  Mail-coach." 
At  the  end  of  the  first  verse  I  had  another  round  of  "  whoops !"  A 
uif5versal  encore  ensued,  and  it  was  loudly  called  for  a  third  time;  but 
they  expressed  their  disapprobation,  not  by  hissing,  as  in  England,  but, 
"  No,  no ! — too  much  !"  I  could  hardly  keep  my  countenance  at  the 
oddity  of  their  noises,  whenever  I  hit  them.  The  whole  farce  went 
equally  well,  and  better  than  ever  I  saw  it  before.  "  Bartlemy  Fair" 
was  as  great  a  hit  as  the  other.  In  short,  I  never  played  to  such  a 
delightful  audience  in  my  life.  I  received  congratulations  after  it  was 
over  from  everybody,  as  if  it  were  a  first  night  in  London,  and  all  my 
future  reputation  depended  on  my  reception.  It  is  universally  agreed 
that  no  farce  ever  went  off  so  well  on  a  first  night  in  Dublin,  and  also 
that  mine  is  an  unusual  hit. 

Ever  yours,        Chaeles  Mathews. 

During  Mr.  Mathews's  first  visit  to  Ireland  in  1794,  Daly's 
cruelty- system  of  not  paying  the  salaries  to  those  whose  humble 
position  in  the  theatre  precluded  their  insisting  upon  redress, 
placed  him  at  length  in  the  most  unpleasant  dilemma  imaginable. 
His  very  proper  reluctance  to  solicit  pecuniary  favours  from 
strangers,  and  his  natural  pride  in  rejecting  the  alternative  of 
applying  to  his  own  family,  thereby  confessing  the  fallacious 
attempt  he  had  made  to  live  independently  of  his  father  in  the 
profession  which  he  had  chosen  in  opposition  to  parental  wishes, 
left  him  in  a  really  distressing  situation.  He  would  not  confess 
the  starving  condition  into  which  his  headlong  predilection  had. 
cast  him,  which  not  only  shut  him  out  from  any  appeal  to  his 
relations,  but  from  seeking  temporary  assistance  from  his  friends, 
whose  advice  he  had  equally  opposed.  Nay,  even  to  those  upon 
the  spot,  who  knew  the  extent  of  Daly's  avarice  (for  it  was 
notorious  that  he  did  not  want  the  means  of  paying  his  per- 


158  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

formers,  since  he  himself  indulged  in  every  luxury),  he  felt 
equally  unwilling  to  confess  his  want  of  resources.  He  had 
become  deeply  indebted  to  his  landlord,  whom  he  had  put  off 
from  week  to  week,  as  Daly  had  led  him  on  with  hopes  of 
payment,  and  the  man  became  daily  more  importunate. 

One  night,  at  the  close  of  the  performance,  the  poor,  penniless, 
supperless  young  man,  returning  to  his  lodging,  found  the  door 
closed  against  him  !  His  landlord  appeared  at  the  window  of 
the  first  floor,  and  announced  his  determination  not  to  let  him 
in,  unless  he  could  assure  him  of  immediate  payment  of  his 
arrears.  In  vain  the  poor  debtor  entreated — in  vain  he  en- 
deavoured to  make  his  creditor  relent.  He  then  reminded  the 
man  that  he  held  a  security  for  ultimate  payment  in  his  whole 
wardrobe  (not  altogether  despicable),  and  a  fine  violin,  itself 
sufficient  to  indemnify  him.  These  were  all  offered  to  be 
formally  delivered  over  to  him,  and  might  be  deemed  more  than 
equivalent  to  his  claim  ;  but  nothing  would  move  the  stern 
creditor,  w^ho  was  so  steeled  against  his  young  lodger,  that 
nothing  less  than  the  current  coin  of  the  realm  would  satisfy 
him.  A  change  of  linen  was  then  entreated,  until  the  next 
evening  gave  him  power  to  claim  the  rest  of  his  property.  Even 
this  small  boon  was  resolutely  refused,  and  the  window  was  at 
length  abruptly  closed !  The  poor,  houseless,  miserable  being 
stood  for  a  time  utterly  incapable  of  thought.  At  length  it 
occurred  to  him  to  seek  the  wretched  abode  of  the  hair-dresser, 
who  daily  frizzed  and  powdered  his  head.  He  had  a  twofold 
claim  upon  this  man's  attention,  for  his  wife  was  his  laundress. 
When  he  reached  the  house  he  made  known  his  destitute  con- 
dition, and  the  poor  people  listened  to  his  story  with  every 
demonstration  of  kindness.  After  a  moment's  whisper  with  her 
husband,  the  wife,  "  on  hospitable  cares  intent,"  left  the  shop 
where  they  were  standing,  and,  just  as  Mr.  Mathews  had  re- 
quested leave  to  stretch  himself  upon  the  floor  of  their  small 
tenement  for  the  night,  the  poor  woman  returned,  her  face 
smiling  with  benevolence,  and  in  a  tone  of  exultation  informed 
"the  master"  that  his  bed  was  ready!  It  was  vain  for  him  to 
refuse.  He  knew  they  had  but  two  apartments — the  little  shop, 
and  the  "  paylour,"  which,  like  a  cobbler's  stall,  served  them  also 
"  kitchen  and  hall :" — he  would  not  consent  to  occupy  their  only 
bed.  After  a  long  war  of  kindly  words,  however,  the  young 
comedian  was  absolutely  hustled  by  husband  and  wife  into  their 
little  dormitory,  where  he  saw  in  one  corner  a  three-legged  table, 
with  some  "  cowld  pratees,"  in  their  native  jackets  displayed,  a 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  139 

cupful  of  salt,  and  a  whiskey-bottle,  by  way  of  persuader  to  this 
inviting  repast ;  and  on  the  other  side  of  the  room  stood  a  narrow, 
rickety  bedstead,  let  down  by  hinges  from  its  protecting  shell, 
displaying  a  patched  but  clean  pillow-case,  and  a  "  turnover"  of 
a  few  inches  of  linen,  which  gave  similar  evidences  of  cleanliness 
and  industry.  Here,  after  another  struggle  on  all  sides  for 
supremacy  of  generosity,  the  barber  and  his  wife  were  the  victors. 
It  was,  in  fact,  two  to  one  against  the  comedian ;  he  found  him- 
self over[)owered  by  numbers,  and  was  eventually  locked  into 
his  bed-chamber  by  the  hand  of  his  hospitable  little  barber,  when 
he  and  his  wife,  doubtless,  occupied  the  space  behind  the 
counter — the  only  one  large  enough  to  receive  them  in  a  longi- 
tudinal position.  When  the  young  guest  had  given  way  to  his 
melancholy  reflections,  and  sipped  moderately  a  mild  dilution  of 
the  crathur,  he  prepared  to  retire  to  bed.  He  found  upon  his 
pillow  a  sort  of  an  apology  for  a  night-shirt.  The  laundress's 
experience  of  "the  master's"  habits  had  taught  her  that  such  a 
thing  was  required  by  him  ;  and  unfortunately,  as  this  visit 
happened  in  the  evening  of  the  day  when  all  "  the  master's" 
linen  had  been  taken  home,  she  had  not  one  of  his  own  to  supply 
him  with ;  therefore  a  coarse  something,  resembling  what  is 
worn  outwardly  by  waggoners  in  the  provinces  of  England,  was 
substituted.  At  first  he  hesitated  to  employ  it ;  but  reflecting 
that  he  must  otherwise  sleep  in  the  one  he  had  on,  and  that  he 
must  necessarily  wear  that  the  next  day,  his  destitution  urged 
him  to  try  on  the  garment  supplied  from  his  host's  stock,  in 
which,  however  it  might  fall  short  of  what  he  had  been  accus- 
tomed to  wear,  he  contentedly  lay  down,  first  carefully  folding 
and  placing  his  own  linen  on  the  bed,  fearing  that  the  moveables 
in  the  room  might  not  serve  as  bleaching-machines  if  he  laid  it 
upon  any  of  the  chairs.  In  the  midst  of  his  sorrows  he  at  last 
fell  asleep  ;  but  towards  the  morning,  which,  being  in  the  dark 
season  of  the  year,  he  conceived  to  be  "  the  middle  of  the 
night" — that  period,  so  called  by  the  people  of  late  habits, 
which  comes  an  hour  or  two  before  their  usual  time  of  rising — 
he  thought  he  heard  the  key  turn  in  the  lock,  as  if  a  stealthy 
attempt  was  made  to  open  it.  The  sleeper  was,  however,  too 
drowsy  to  be  capable  of  ascertaining  the  fact,  and  Ije  dozed  oif 
again,  but  soon  heard  another  attempt  upon  the  door.  He 
called  out,  "  Who's  there  ?" — the  noise  ceased.  Again  he  slept ; 
again  he  was  disturbed.  At  last,  after  another  pause,  he  was 
once  more  startled  from  his  sleep  by  something  cautiously 
creeping  about  his  small  apartment.     The  certainty  that  some 


160  THE  LIFE  AND   COERESPONDENCE  OF 

person  was  in  the  room,  and  for  some  secret  purpose,  was  not 
very  agreeable.  He  remained  silent,  holding  his  breath,  and 
waiting  the  result.  At  length  a  hand  touched  the  top  of  the 
bed-clothes,  and  as  soon  shrunk  away,  as  if  alarmed  at  its  own 
temerity.  The  young  man  shuddered.  It  was  impossible,  he 
thought,  that  the  owners  of  the  apartment  would  think  of 
visiting  him  in  this  way.  His  only  conjecture  was,  that  instead 
of  occupying  the  shop,  as  he  supposed  they  had  done,  they  had 
possibly  left  the  house  to  obtain  some  better  accommodation  for 
the  night,  and  that  some  intruder  had  taken  advantage  of  their 
absence  to  rob  at  least,  if  not  murder,  their  sleeping  guest, 
naturally  supposing  that  he  might  possess  something  worth  the 
attempt.  He  was  soon,  however,  relieved  from  the  most  terrible 
part  of  his  fears  by  the  evident  retreat  of  his  untimely  visitor, 
who,  as  he  drew  the  door  of  the  room  after  him,  whispered  in  a 
hoarse,  and,  as  it  appeared  to  the  alarm.ed  occupant,  a -murderous 
voice,  to  somebody  without,  "  I've  got  it !"  Got  what  ?  asked 
the  trembling  comedian  of  himself,  and  he  stretched  out  his 
hand  to  the  chair  upon  which  his  coat  and  nether  garments  had 
been  laid  when  he  undressed ;  these  were  safe.  Wondering, 
therefore,  what  could  have  been  the  object  of  this  secret  visit, 
and  keeping  watch  till  day  began  to  look  in  upon  his  deplorable 
state,  he  sunk  into  a  heavy  slumber,  from  which  he  did  not 
awake  till  the  day  was  "  well  aired."  He  then  perceived  his 
humane  gaoler  enter,  with  shaving-pot,  powder-bag,  and  "  all 
appliances  and  means  to  boot"  for  completing  a  "jintleman's'* 
toilette,  as  far  as  head  was  concerned  in  that  day,  who,  smiling 
with  a  proud  and  gratified  expression,  bowed  to  "  the  master," 
and  proposed  to  commence  the  accustomed  operation  of  the 
morning,  tirst  stifling  in  their  very  birth  all  thanks  for  the  over- 
night's kindness,  and  regret  at  the  sacrifice  it  had  occasioned 
his  entertainers.  The  young  man  then  revealed  the  terrors  of 
the  night  to  the  hair-dresser,  who  listened  to  the  relation  with 
a  somewhat  embarrassed,  and  what  seemed  to  his  visitor  a  sus- 
picious air.  He  certainly  neither  attempted  to  account  for  the 
mysterious  disturbance  of  his  guest's  slumbers,  nor  to  explain 
how  the  key  had  been  obtained  ;  but  hurriedly  proposed  that,  as 
it  was  a  cold  morning,  and  the  fire  and  "  his  honour's"  breakfast 
were  not  quite  ready,  his  "honour's  goodness"  would  allow  him 
to  throw  his  towel  round  his  "honour's  neck,"  and  to  dress 
his  "honour's  head,"  as  he  sat  up  in  bed.  This  was  a  very  odd 
sort  of  request,  and  was  at  first  resolutely  denied ;  but  Pat  was 
so  anxiously  earnest,  that  at  last  "  his  honour"  consented  to  the 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  161 

strange  importunity  of  his  host,  and  suffered  the  operation  of 
having  his  hair  dressed  in  the  position  described.  The  process 
was  somewhat  tedious,  and  "his  honour"  became  impatient. 
The  barber  arranged  and  re-arranged  the  curls — fidgeted  from 
one  side  of  the  bed  to  the  other,  when  at  last  the  door  opened, 
and  in  marched,  in  a  triumphant  manner,  the  laundress,  with  a 
basket,  which,  with  some  parade,  she  placed  upon  a  chair  near 
the  bed,  and  lo !  the  dark  transaction  of  the  night  was  eluci- 
dated. On  explanation,  it  appeared  that  some  time  after  the 
benevolent  couple  had  laid  themselves  down  and  taken  their 
"lodging  upon  the  cold  ground,"  it  occurred  to  the  good  laun- 
dress that  the  "  young  master"  would,  according  to  custom, 
require  a  change  of  linen  in  the  morning,  and  she  repented  that 
this  after-thought  came  too  late  to  enable  her  to  execute  her 
wishes  that  night.  "  If  she  had  '  mintioned'  it  to  his  honour 
before  he  went  to  sleep  she  could  have  washed  '  his  honour's' 
linen  before  the  fire  went  out,  and  it  would  have  been  dry  by 
the  morning."  Having  omitted  to  do  so,  she  compromised  the 
matter  with  her  conscience  by  rising  earlier  than  usual,  and 
sending  her  husband  stealthily  into  "  the  master's"  room  in  the 
morning,  in  order  not  to  disturb  him,  to  takeaway  "  the  master's 
eleven  shirts  short  of  the  dozen,"  with  other  washable  hangings, 
that  she  might  present  him,  as  an  agreeable  surprise,  with  a  set 
of  things  in  the  state  she  knew  his  daily  comfort  required.  As 
the  time  was  brief,  and  firing  dull,  these  ablutions  required  more 
time  than  she  had  calculated  upon ;  hence  the  expedient  of  the 
worthy  barber,  and  his  contrivance  to  keep  "  his  honour"  longer 
in  bed  than  usual. 

In  this  friendly  shelter  the  young  actor  remained  until  he 
wrung,  by  humiliating  solicitations,  a  pound  or  two  out  of  the 
cruel  grasp  of  Mr.  Daly.  He  then  reclaimed  his  little  property 
from  his  unfeeling  landlord,  and  it  may  be  imagined  that  he 
repaid  in  every  way  in  his  power  the  kindness  as  well  as  the 
actual  claim  of  his  humble  friends.  It  may  be  also  believed, 
that  in  more  prosperous  times  the  "  great  London  actor"  did 
not  forget  the  service  done  to  him  by  these  worthy  people  while 
he  was  only  one  of  the  most  insignificant  of  "  Daly's  divarters." 
On  his  first  increase  of  income,  Mr.  Mathews  sent  a  small 
remittance  to  his  poor  little  barber,  with  a  promise  to  repeat  it 
periodically.  That  promise  (which  often  proved  inconvenient) 
had  been  faithfully  performed  up  to  this  time  ;  and  as  soon  as  he 
paid  this,  his  second  visit  to  Ireland,  after  sixteen  j^ears'  absence, 
his  first  thought  was  of  his  generous  little  friend,  to  whom  he 

M 


162  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

resolved  to  give  a  pleasing  surprise  in  his  way.  For  this  pur- 
pose, the  first  night  of  his  arrival,  he  ordered  that  on  the  fol- 
lowing morning  a  breakfast  for  three  might  be  prepared ;  at  the 
same  time  informing  Mr.  Incledon,  who  was  in  the  house  with 
him,  that  he  wished  him  to  be  present,  to  be  introduced  to  a 
very  particular  and  distinguished  guest,  enjoining  the  master  of 
the  house  "  to  provide  an  excellent  breakfast,  for  he  expected 
the  company  of  the  best  friend  he  had  in  Dublin."  The  land- 
lord, impressed  with  the  notion  which  such  a  declaration  implied, 
namely,  that  some  great  man  was  expected,  of  whose  friendship 
the  actor  was  vain,  determined  at  once  to  obey  his  order  in  the 
spirit  in  which  he  conceived  it  was  given ;  and  forthwith,  for 
the  credit  of  his  own  establishment  on  so  distinguished  an 
occasion,  he  ordered  his  best  service  of  china  to  be  set  out,  and 
all  the  plate  that  could  be  made  available.  A  message  was 
then  sent  to  the  barber,  simply  to  the  effect  that  he  was  required 
to  operate  upon  a  gentleman's  chin  (alas !  for  the  craft,  powder 
had  ceased  to  be  worn)  at  a  certain  hour,  at  which  period  Mr. 
Mathews  took  care  to  secure  his  other  guest  in  the  room,  and 
everything  but  the  "  hissing  urn,"  which,  albeit  emitting 
sounds  unmusical  to  an  actor's  ear, was  requisite  for  the  winding 
up  of  the  little  plot  of  the  present  drama.  Incledon  had  some- 
what super-adorned  his  person  on  this  occasion,  out  of  respect 
to  his  host's  superior  guest.  At  the  appointed  time  the  barber 
was  announced  to  be  waiting  without  for  his  customer,  and  the 
waiter  who  delivered  the  message  was  somewhat  surprised  to 
hear  himself  ordered  to  admit  this  person  into  the  breakfast- 
room  immediately.  He  obeyed ;  and  in  a  minute  after  appeared 
the  little  man,  arrayed  in  jacket  and  white  apron,  and  shaving 
appurtenances  in  hand,  standing  respectfully  and  doubtingly 
upon  the  threshold  of  the  door.  He  was  not  much  altered;  for 
time  had  but  little  changed  his  benevolent  features,  and  Mr. 
Mathews  would  have  known  him  had  he  not  been  prepared  to 
expect  him.  It  was  otherwise  with  himself;  the  slim  half- 
starved  youth,  with  narrow,  consumptive  chest,  and  pale  face, 
had  expanded  into  the  full-grown,  healthy  man ;  and  his  ruddy 
cheeks  and  improved  appearance  were  not  easily  to  be  recognized 
without  some  clue  as  belonging  to  the  once  friendless,  depressed 
creature,  who  had  been  beholden  to  his  humble  friend's  kindness. 
Pat  hesitated,  and  looking  doubtfully  first  at  one  "  jintleman'* 
and  then  at  the  other,  whose  head  was  a  little  averted,  inquired 
respectfully  "  Which  of  their  honours  sent  for  him  ?"  Incledon 
at  once  disowned  the  necessity  for  his  services ;  but  the  other 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  163 

"jintleman"  ran  up  to  the  astonished  man,  hastily  relieved  him 
from  the  shaving  utensils,  placed  them  on  the  table,  and  in  the 
next  minute  made  himself  known  to  him. 

The  scene  that  followed  was  most  interesting,  as  I  have  heard 
it  described  by  Mr.  Incledon.  The  little  barber  was  half  mad 
with  gratified  feeling.  He  was  desired  to  sit  down  and  eat  the 
breakfast  (to  him  a  dinner),  and  then  to  relate  how  he  was 
situated,  whether  his  wife  lived,  &c.  This  he  did,  after  some 
scruples  at  such  a  freedom,  and  all  was  told.  The  breakfast 
ended,  and  "  the  master's"  affairs  requiring  his  presence  else- 
where, the  little  barber  (whose  name  1  have  forgotten)  was  dis- 
missed, with  an  assurance  that  his  friend  would  call  the  next 
day  upon  his  wife,  and  take  a  peep  at  his  old  dormitory. 

It  may  easily  be  imagined  how  surprised  the  landlord  of  the 
hotel  was ;  but  he  was  a  good-hearted  Irishman,  and  enjoyed 
the  scene  (of  which  the  bringing  in  of  the  urn  had  made  him  a 
witness),  and  laughed  heartily  at  his  own  extra  preparations. 
The  barber  found  an  increase  to  his  pension  in  the  next  instal- 
ment ;  and  he  and  his  wife,  like  the  good  children  in  the  story- 
book, "  lived  happy  ever  after."  Mr.  Mathews  was  not  in  the 
habit  of  talking  of  his  own  good  actions ;  but  when  a  mixture  of 
drollery  tempted  him  to  relate  any  of  them,  he  could  not  always 
resist ;  and  he  never  repeated  the  scene  I  have  so  poorly  de- 
scribed without  his  hearers,  after  their  first  laugh,  being  almost 
moved  to  tears. 

A  few  years  after  this  incident,  during  one  of  his  frequent 
engagements  in  Dublin,  Mr,  Mathews  saw  his  worthy  little 
friend  expire  in  the  very  bed  (though  much  improved  in  its 
appearance)  which  he  had  once  given  up  to  him,  and  upon 
which  he  blessed  him  for  the  last  time.  It  may  be  believed 
that  the  poor  widow,  who  had  a  half  claim  upon  her  husband's 
pension,  felt  no  diminution  of  it,  but  continued  to  enjoy  the 
advantage  entire. 


V2 


16.^  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


Provincial  wanderings — Partnership  with  Mr.  Incledon — Dissolution  of  part- 
nership—Ee-appearance  at  Haymarket  Theatre — First  appearance  of  Mr. 
Mathews  at  Covent  Gai-den,  in  "Love,  Law,  and  Physic" — Mr.  Mathews's 
imitation  of  Lord  Ellenborough  in  the  character  of  Flexible — The  conse- 
quences— Imitation  of  Mr.  Braham — Mr.  Mathews's  imitation  at  Carlton 
House  before  the  Prince  Regent — Mrs.  Jordan. 

For  the  next  twelvemonths  Mr.  Mathews  led  a  wandering  life, 
appearing  at  most  of  the  principal  provincial  theatres  in  England, 
and  always  with  the  greatest  success.  In  the  month  of  November 
he  joined  fortune  with  Mr.  Charles  Incledon,*  the  celebrated 
singer,  with  whom  he  projected  what  is  now  called  in  theatrical 
parlance  a  "  duologue  entertainment,"  consisting  of  character 
impersonations,  songs,  imitations,  &c. ;  but,  though  eminently 
successful,  the  partners  were  ill-matched,  and  the  firm  was 
speedily  broken  up.  Mr.  Mathews  continued  acting  in  the 
country  on  his  own  account,  and  on  the  15th  of  May,  1812,  he 
returned  to  London  on  the  occasion  of  the  reopening  of  the 
Haymarket  Theatre,  and  was  received  by  the  public  with  the 
most  flattering  demonstrations  of  welcome. 

Early  in  October  Mr.  Mathews  made  his  first  appearance  as  a 
regular  performer  at  Covent  Garden  Theatre,t  in  the  Protean 
character  of  Bushin  in  "Killing  no  Murder,"  and  was  most 
enthusiastically  welcomed.  It  was  observed  upon  this  occasion, 
that  "  the  Bannisters,  Caulfields,  and  Foote,  might  give  you  the 
manner  of  others  with  precision,  but  that  Mathews  created  the 
matter  for  the  manner,  for  which  he  was  decidedly  incom- 
parable." 

*  Benjamin  Charles  Incledon,  actor  and  vocalist,  born  1764 ;  originally  a 
common  sailor,  having  served  five  years  in  the  Royal  Navy ;  pronounced  by  all 
who  ever  heard  him  to  have  been  the  sweetest  of  English  baUad  singers. 
Died  3  826. 

+  It  has  been  already  mentioned  that  he  performed  there  once,  for  the 
benefit  of  Mr.  T.  Dibdin,  in  the  year  1805,  his  original  part  of  Triangle,  in 
the  comedy  of  "  Guilty  or  Not  Guilty." 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  165 

A  farce,  called  "  Sneiderkins,"  written  expressly  for  Him,  on 
account  of  his  extraordinary  talent  of  transformation,  was  pro- 
duced soon  after  Mr.  Mathews  joined  the  theatre.  In  this,  as 
the  hero  of  the  piece,  his  individual  exertions  were  in  themselves 
successful ;  but  the  farce  was  not  relished  by  the  audience,  and, 
though  not  altogether  condemned,  it  died  a  natural  death,  being 
probably  withdrawn  by  Mr.  Mathews's  advice. 

By  the  end  of  the  same  month  another  new  piece,  called 
*'  Love,  Law,  and  Physic,"  was  produced  from  the  pen  of  Mr. 
Kenney,  which  involved  the  representative  of  Flexible  in  some 
subsequent  embarrassment.  The  most  prominent  character  in 
the  farce  was  given  to  Mr.  Liston,  whose  Luhin  Log  must  be 
remembered  by  all  who  saw  it.  Mr.  Mathews  was  not  satisfied 
with  his  part.  It  was  one  of  those  productions  which  he  so 
frequently  had  presented  to  him  "  to  fill  up  for  himself."  A 
friend  wrote  him  a  song,  called  "  The  Playhouse,"  to  give 
weight  to  his  character  ;  besides  this,  he  felt  that  his  own 
exertions  to  improve  the  part  were, more  than  usually  requisite. 
In  one  of  his  assumptions,  he  had  to  give  a  description  of  a 
barrister  pleading  in  court.  This,  in  order  to  be  effective,  he 
thought  necessary  to  do  in  the  style  of  the  public  men  he  had 
heard,  and  it  produced  the  expected  effect.  But  when  he  came 
to  give  the  judge's  charge  to  the  jury,  which  was  an  imitation 
also,*  the  effect  was  quite  astounding  to  him,  for  he  had  no 
idea  of  its  being  so  received.  The  shout  of  recognition  and  en- 
joyment indeed  was  so  alarming  to  his  nerves,  so  unlike  all 
former  receptions  of  such  efforts,  that  he  repented  the  attempt 
in  proportion  as  it  was  well  taken  ;  and  a  call  for  it  a  second 
time  fairly  upset  him,  albeit  not  unused  to  loud  applause  and 
approbation. 

The  next  day  and  the  next  the  press  was  partially  occupied 
in  objecting  to  and  in  defending  the  introduction  of  a  subject  by 
the  author,  open  in  such  hands  to  such  effects.  Just  before  the 
commencement  of  the  second  performance  of  the  piece,  a  noble 
lord  (now  a  marquis)  requested  an  interview  with  Mr.  Mathews 
at  the  theatre.  On  this  occasion  he  contrived, in  language  the  most 
courtly,  yet  without  any  definite  expression  of  his  object,  or 
more  than  a  vague  intimation  of  the  high  authority  by  whom 
he  was  deputed,  to  make  his  errand  fully  understood.  His 
lordship  was  soon  satisfied  that  he  had  no  occasion  to  use  any 
argument  to  infiuence  the  performer,  for  Mr.  Mathews  proved  to 

*  Of  tte  Lord  Chief  Justice  EUenborougb. 


166  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

him  at  once  that  he  had  fully  resolved,  from  the  moment  he 
found  his  imitation  received  with  such  extraordinary  vehemence, 
not  to  repeat  it. 

The  piece  commenced,  and  a  most  crowded  house  greeted  him. 
It  was  plain  that  a  great  sensation  had  been  created.  The  pit 
was  dense  with  gentlemen  only.  The  inimitable  Liston  was  not 
so  much  attended  to  as  it  was  usual  for  him  to  be ;  and  the 
anxiety  for  the  judge's  charge  was  fully  apparent  by  the  manner 
of  hailing  the  change  of  dress  which  bespoke  the  period  of  the 
representation.  The  barrister's  defence  was  received  with  great 
applause ;  but,  when  the  judge  began  his  charge,  a  restless  dis- 
satisfaction appeared,  and  Mr.  Mathews  was  interrupted  by  a 
call  of  "  Imitation !  imitation  !"  from  all  parts  of  the  house,  and 
loudest  from  the  pit,  which  was  said  to  be  almost  filled  with 
"  men  of  law."  The  clamour  was  so  great  that  at  length  the 
object  of  it  went  forward,  and  obtaining  a  momentary  pause, 
respectfully  inquired  what  was  the  pleasure  of  the  audience  ? 
Here  a  simultaneous  answer  burst  forth — "  The  imitation !  the 
imitation !"  A  gentleman  rose  above  the  rest  in  the  pit,  and 
demanded,  "  Why  Mr.  Mathews  omitted  the  latter  part,  and  by 
what  authority  he  was  prevented  from  giving  the  imitation  of 
the  learned  judge  ?"  This  was  followed  by  loud  cries  from  the 
rest  of  the  audience  of  "  Answer  the  question."  Mr.  Mathews 
inquired  of  his  interrogator  what  learned  judge  he  meant  ?  The 
gentleman  declined  giving  the  name  ;  but  another  nearer  to  the 
stage  contrived  in  a  low  voice  to  pronounce  the  one  alluded  to. 
Mr.  Mathews  then  again  addressed  the  audience.  He  assured 
them  that  in  any  imitation  of  his,  it  was  neither  his  practice 
nor  purpose  to  hurt  the  feelings  of  any  individual.  He  had 
heard  that  a  noble  and  learned  lord  was  much  offended  in  con- 
sequence of  the  accounts  in  the  public  papers.  (Here  a  general 
cry  of  "  No,  no  !")  Mr.  Mathews  said  "  that  he  did  not  feel 
himself  bound  to  a  repetition  of  any  peculiar  manner,  which 
might  be  liable  to  public  misconstruction ;  he  had  heard  with 
deep  concern  that  offence  had  been  taken  at  the  mode  of  his 
burlesque  representation  of  a  judicial  address,  from  an  idea  that 
it  had  a  personal  allusion,  which  he  disclaimed.  He  bore  the 
highest  respect  for  the  constituted  authorities  of  his  country, 
and  therefore  no  power  on  earth  should  compel  him  to  a  con- 
tinuance of  any  mode  of  representation  that  might,  if  he  knew 
it,  favour  the  erroneous  opinion  which  had  gone  forth  on  this 
occasion.  As  to  the  words  of  the  judicial  charge,  they  were 
strictly  those  of  the  author ;  but  for  the  tones  in  which  they 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  167 

had  first  been  uttered,  he  really  felt  quite  at  a  loss  what  to  say ; 
he  had  practised  so  many  voices  in  the  course  of  his  life,  that  he 
was  not  always  aware  which  he  might  have  used  for  any  par- 
ticular case  when  it  was  over.  But  as  the  audience  seemed  to 
have  a  favourite,  he  was  willing  to  prove  his  anxiety  to  please 
them,  and  would,  if  they  sanctioned  the  experiment,  give  the 
speech  in  question  in  various  tones  and  difference  of  style,  which 
might  enable  them  to  point  out  from  amongst  the  many  that 
which  they  preferred."  This  adroit  address  created  great  ap- 
plause. He  th<in  proceeded  to  give  the  "charge,"  in  imitation 
of  Kemble,  Cooke,  Incledon,  Suett,  Munden,  Blanchard,  and 
many  other  public  favourites  in  succession,  all  with  great  and 
some  with  ludicrous  effect,  and  was  still  proceeding,  when  the 
audience,  finding  his  specimens  interminable,  began  to  take  the 
jest ;  their  laughter  became  uproarious,  and  their  good-humour 
was  completely  restored  by  this  ruse  of  the  actor  to  evade  their 
unwelcome  call.  The  result  of  all  this  was,  that  the  malcontents 
were  completely  reconciled  to  their  first  disappointment,  and 
allowed  the  farce  to  end  without  more  tumult.  But  it  was  on 
subsequent  nights  sufficiently  apparent  that  the  piece  had,  for 
the  time,  lost  its  principal  attraction ;  though  ultimately  its 
own  merit,  and  the  acting  generally,  soon  made  it  a  first-rate 
favourite. 

Not  long  after  this,  as  an  evidence  that  his  legal  hit  had  not 
made  him  unpopular  with  "  the  Bar,"  Mr.  Mathews  was  present 
at  a  trial  in  one  of  the  courts,  when  Mr.  Grurney  sent  the  fol- 
lowing jocular  note  to  a  gentleman  whose  case  was  coming  on, 
and  whom  he  saw  speaking  to  Mr.  Mathews. 

I  shall  certainly  request  that  Mr.  Mathews  shall  retire  from  the 
court  while  I  open  your  case,  unless  he  give  me  his  word  that  he  will 
not  exhibit  me  in  "  Love,  Law,  and  Physic."  J.  G. 

Mr.  Mathews  was,  in  fact,  always  remarkably  delicate  in  respect 
to  his  imitative  efforts  being  at  all  obtruded  upon  the  notice  of 
the  subjects  of  his  imitation  to  their  annoyance.  On  the  night 
just  mentioned,  when  the  audience  brought  him  so  closely  to 
answer  their  urgent  calls  for  the  imitation  which  they  had  re- 
cognised on  the  first  night  of  "  Love,  Law,  and  Physic,"  and 
when  he  hit  upon  so  happy  an  expedient  to  restore  good-humour 
without  complying  with  their  wishes — after  having  succeeded  in 
making  his  peace  with  the  audience,  he  turned  up  the  stage,  and 
at  once  perceived  why  one  of  his  imitations  had  been  so  much 
more  effective  than  the  rest.     He  had  totally  forgotten,  in  the 


168  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

agitation  of  the  moment,  that  Mr.  Blanchard  (who  in  the  first 
uproar  had  retired  to  the  back)  was  still  upon  the  stage !  That 
good-natured  man  met  him  afterwards  behind  the  scenes  with  a 
shake  of  the  hand,  by  way  of  congratulating  him  upon  his  success 
in  pacifying  the  tumult,  and  Mr,  Mathews  exclaimed, "  My  dear 
Blanchard,  pray  pardon  me.  I  entirely  forgot  that  you  were 
still  upon  the  stage.  Good  God !  how  coarse  my  imitation  of 
you  before  your  face  must  have  appeared !"  To  this  apology  Mr. 
Blanchard,  with  the  greatest  naivete,  replied,  "  What,  my  dear 
boy,  did  yow  mean  that  for  me?" — the  stress  laid  upon  the  word 
that  proving  that  the  one  imitation  best  understood  and  most 
applauded  by  the  audience,  had  been  the  only  likeness  not  re- 
cognised by  the  original.  It  need  not  be  told  to  those  who  have 
heard  it,  that  this  imitation  of  Blanchard  was  perfect. 

I  remember  an  amusing  ctmsequence  of  my  husband's  reluc- 
tance to  represent  any  persons  in  their  presence,  that  occurred 
soon  after  our  settling  in  London.  Mr.  Mathews  had  known 
Mr.  Braham  in  the  autumn  of  1803,  at  Liverpool ;  audit  followed 
that  he  gave  a  perfect  imitation  of  him  both  in  private  and  public 
life.  Of  this  Mr.  Braham  heard,  and  with  all  the  liberality  of 
good  sense  and  conscious  talent,  he  good-humouredly  pressed  my 
husband  to  show  him — what  not  more  than  one  man  in  twenty  is 
acquainted  with — himself.  In  vain  did  he  solicit ;  when  one  day 
dining  together  at  a  large  party,  after  much  importunity  of  the 
kind  to  Braham  No.  2,  it  was  discovered  that  Braham  No.  1  had 
stolen  a  march  upon  his  host  and  hostess — in  fact,  he  had  dis- 
appeared during  the  dessert,  and  it  was  said  had  left  the  house. 
After  this  fact  was  ascertained,  it  was  urged  that  in  the  absence 
of  the  great  original,  Mr.  Mathews  could  do  no  less  than  re- 
present him,  for  the  consolation  of  his  bereaved  friends ;  and, 
under  such  circumstances,  he  at  length  yielded,  and  the  great 
vocalist's  absence  was  fully  compensated  for  the  time,  by 
Braham  No.  2,  who  even  favoured  the  company  with  one  of  his 
most  popular  songs. 

When  the  general  enjoyment  was  at  its  height,  two  ladies, 
between  whom  Mr.  Braham  had  sat  at  dinner,  seemed  as  if  sud- 
denly discomposed,  when  a  figure  rose  slowly  from  under  the 
table,  and  in  tones  which  seemed  uttered  as  if  intended  in  illus- 
tration of  the  recent  imitation,  pronounced,  "  Very  well,  Mathews  ! 
exceedingly  like,  indeed  !  nay,  perfect,  if  I  know  myself!"  And 
the  Braham  stood  confessed !  In  fact,  he  had  crept  under  the 
table,  with  the  aid  of  several  confederates,  unseen  by  my  husband 
(though  by  my  concurrence),  and  thus  overheard  the  imitation 
which  he  had  before  despaired  of  ever  hearing. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  169 

The  most  remarkable  result  of  Mr.  Mathews's  imitation  of 
Lord  Ellenborough  in  "  Love,  Law,  and  Physic,"  was  his  re- 
ceiving a  "request"  that  he  would,  go  to  Carlton  House  on  a 
certain  evening.  On  his  arrival,  he  was  immediately  ushered  into 
the  presence  of  the  Prince,  who  was  surrounded  by  a  very  small 
circle.  After  a  most  gracious  reception,  the  general  conversation 
was  resumed,  as  it  appeared,  and  he  was  for  some  time  at  a  loss 
to  guess  the  immediate  cause  of  his  invitation.  At  length,  the 
Prince  began  to  speak  of  the  extraordinary  sensation  Mr. 
Mathews's  recent  imitation  had  caused,  adding,  that  he  had  the 
greatest  desire  in  the  world  to  hear  it ;  and  concluded  by  saying, 
that  it  would  be  considered  as  a  favour  if  Mr.  Mathews  would 
then  give  the  "  charge  to  the  jury,"  as  he  had  given  it  on  the 
first  night  of  the  new  farce.  My  husband  felt  distressingly 
embarrassed.  He  glanced  round  at  the  party,  and  his  eye  for  a 
moment  fell  upon  the  nobleman  with  whom  he  had  the  inter- 
view on  the  second  night  of  the  piece,  and  who  was  looking  par- 
ticularly grave.  Mr.  Mathews  obviously  hesitated,  which  the 
Prince  observing,  said,  "  Oh,  don't  be  afraid,  Mr.  Mathews — 
we're  all  tiled  here.  Come,  pray  oblige  me  :  Pm  longing  to  hear 
it.  I'm  something  of  a  mimic  myself.  My  brother  here" 
(turning  to  the  Duke  of  York)  "  can  tellyou,  that  I  give  a  very- 
fair  imitation  of  Lord  Eldon.  With  respect  to  yours  of  Lord 
Ellenborough,  it  was  not  so  well  when  you  found  it  so  taken  up 
to  continue  it  in  public,  and  I  am  very  glad  your  own  good  taste 
and  feeling  prompted  you  to  refuse  a  repetition  of  it ;  but  here 
you  need  have  no  scruples." 

Mr.  Mathews  felt  very  reluctant  to  obey  the  Prince's  wishes, 
though  so  gently  and  kindly  enforced,  for  although  there  were 
not  altogether  twenty  persons  present,  yet  he  could  not  help 
feeling  that  amongst  them  there  might  be  some  personal  friend 
of  the  Lord  Chief  Justice.  However,  he  was  commanded,  and, 
malgre  lui,  he  obeyed. 

The  Prince  was  in  raptures,  and  declared  himself  astonished  at 
the  closeness  of  the  imitation,  shutting  his  eyes  while  he  listened 
to  ib  with  excessive  enjoyment,  and  many  exclamations  of  wonder 
and  dehght,  such  as  ''Excellent!  perfect!  It  is  he  himself !" 
The  Duke  of  York  manifested  his  approval  in  peals  of  laughter 
and  the  Prince  afterwards  conversed  most  kindly  and  agreeably 
upon  the  subject  with  my  husband  and  the  high  personages 
present,  for  some  time.  When  Mr.  Mathews  returned  home,  he 
declared  to  me,  that  had  he  had  the  remotest  idea  of  the  cause 
of.  his  summons  to  the  palace,  he  would  have  formed  some  excuse 


170  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

rather  than  appear  on  an  occasion  so  truly  embarrassing  to  his 
feelings. 

In  the  course  of  this  season  he  had  opportunities  of  showing 
himself  at  Covent  Garden  Theatre  in  more  regular  dramatic  cha- 
racters, such  as  Kite  in  "  The  Recruiting  Officer,"  Trinculo  in 
"  The  Tempest,"  &c. ;  and,  during  Mrs.  Jordan's  engagement  for 
a  limited  period,  he  had  the  advantage  of  appearing  in  the  same 
plays  with  her  in  several  of  his  favourite  old  men,  as  Foresight 
in  "  Love  for  Love,"  &c.  The  town  allowed  that  he  could  com- 
mand their  approval  in  legitimate  comedy  as  well  as  in  farce. 
Nor  was  it  less  gratifying  to  him  to  find  himself  an  object  in  this 
way  with  the  performers  on  their  benefit  nights.  The  following 
compliment  from  the  Thalia  of  the  day,  will  be  a  proof  that 
his  acting  was  appreciated  by  the  best  judges  in  his  own  pro- 
fession. 

To  Charles  Mathews,  Esq. 

Cadogan  Place,  Wednesday. 

Sib, — I  shall  be  extremely  obliged  to  you  if  you  will  allow  me  to 
gratify  my  friends,  all  admirers  of  yours,  with  your  performance  of  Sir 
Bashful  Constant  in  "  The  Way  to  Keep  Him." 

I  remain,  sir,  yours,        Doka  Joedan. 

Mrs.  Jordan  not  only  admired  Mr.  Mathews's  public  talent, 
but,  after  she  became  intimate  with  him,  honoured  him  with  many 
attentions.  He  was  frequently  invited  to  the  house  of  this  fas- 
cinating actress,  and  visited  her  on  several  occasions  of  domestic 
interest.  He  always  accepted  her  invitations  when  he  could,  and 
became  strongly  attached  to  her  society.  He  used  to  say  that 
her  fine  joy-inspiring  tones,  and  her  natural  and  peculiar  manner 
of  speaking,  always  carried  a  warmth  to  his  heart  which  no  other 
voice  ever  conveyed,  and  seemed  to  do  him  good.  She  was  indeed 
an  extraordinary  and  exquisite  being,  and  as  distinct  from  any 
other  person  in  the  world  as  she  was  superior  to  all  her  contem- 
poraries in  her  particular  line  of  acting,  I  believe  the  fol- 
lowing invitation  was  the  last  my  husband  ever  received  from 
her  hand,  and  it  was  carefully  preserved  by  him  in  his  collection 
of  autographs. 

To  Charles  Mathews,  Esq. 

Cadogan  Place,  Friday. 

Sir, — My  son,  Captain  Fitzclarence,  having  a  party  here  on  Monday 
the  11th,  to  take  leave  of  his  friends  on  his  going  abroad,  is  desirous 
of  having  the  pleasure  of  knowing  you  before  he  goes;  and  at  his 
request  I  now  do  myself  the  pleasure  of  enclosing  you  a  card. 

I  remain  yours  obediently,        Doea  Joedan. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  171 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

Mr.  Mathews  commanded  to  perform  at  Carlton  House— His  previous  visit  to 
that  palace — Disposal  of  the  cottage  in  the  King's-road — Mr.  Mathews's 
return  to  town — Letter  from  Mr.  Theodore  Hook,  from  the  Mauritius. 

At  this  period  Mr.  Mathews  received  another  gracious  summons 
from  the  Prince  Regent  to  Carlton  House,  requesting  him  to 
entertain  the  Court  with  some  specimens  of  his  "rare  talents," 
on  a  particular  evening,  and  requiring  him  to  call  on  the  morn- 
ing previously.  When  Mr.  Mathews  arrived,  he  found  the  Duke 
of  York  with  his  royal  brother,  and  both  received  him  with  the 
most  cordial  kindness.  The  Prince,  in  his  fascinating  manner, 
thanked  him  for  what  he  was  pleased  to  term  his  "good-nature," 
in  consenting  to  gratify  him  with  his  performance,  adding,  he 
was  quite  aware  that  it  was  a  particular  instance,  and  that  Mr. 
Mathews  never  anywhere  else  exhibited  his  powers  out  of  his 
profession ;  but  he  said,  "  The  Queen*  has  long  felt  an  earnest 
desire  to  witness  them,  and  had  often  been  disappointed  of  that 
pleasure."  The  Prince  then  entered  upon  his  reason  for  re- 
questing the  present  call,  which,  in  fact,  was  nothing  less  than  a 
delicate  consideration  for  Mr.  Mathews's  comfort  and  con- 
venience in  the  evening.  His  Royal  Highness  wished  him  to 
make  choice  of  a  position  in  the  room  most  agreeable  to  his 
purpose  and  general  accommodation.  Perceiving  Mr.  Mathews 
in  doubt  where  to  tix,  the  Prince  explained  to  him  that  he  had 
himself  arranged,  if  no  better  plan  suggested  itself,  everything 
for  his  comfort.  "  This,"  said  his  Royal  Highness,  "this  is  the 
apartment  we  intend  to  be  in ;  at  the  farther  end  of  it  I  have 
had  your  table  placed,  as  you  see,  there  being  a  door  close  to 
it  opening  into  another  room,  to  which  you  can  retire  and 
refresh  yourself  as  often  as  you  feel  disposed.  I  have  personally 
attended  to  everything  within  it,  and  hope  you  will  be  pleased." 
Then  leading  the  way  to  what  proved  a  double-door,  the  Prince 
opened  the  first,  where  his  progress  was  arrested  by  a  sight 
*  Queen  Charlotte, 


372  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

which  was  enough  to  make  his  "  two  eyes,  hke  stars,  start  from 
their  spheres."  It  was  no  less  than  a  housemaid's  hroom,  and  a 
quantity  of  dust,  deposited  in  a  vulgar  heap  in  the  middle  of  the 
doorway,  which  the  sweeper,  good  easy  soul,  not  dreaming  that 
her  royal  master  would  have  occasion  before  the  wonted  hour  to 
pass  through  these  doors,  had  left  to  be  removed  at  her  con- 
venience. It  was  whimsical  to  see  the  look  of  the  Prince  at  this 
discovery,  at  which  the  "Duke  his  brother"  laughed  inconti- 
nently for  several  minutes.  "  Now  really,"  said  the  Prince, 
after  a  brief  contemplation  of  tlie  obstruction,  and  trying  to 
seem  angr}'- — "really,  this  is  too  bad !"  and  taking  the  broom  in 
his  hand,  removed  it  from  the  middle  of  the  passage  across 
which  it  laid ;  while  the  Duke,  whose  laughter  was  renewed  at 
this  action,  cried  out,  "  Ay,  sweep  it  up  yourself,  brother ;  sweep 
it  up  yourself!"  The  Prince,  however,  directed  a  person  in 
waiting  to  "  see  to  it,"  and  then  gravely  passed  through  to  the 
other  room,  followed  by  the  Duke  and  m}'-  husband,  the  former 
still  laughing  immoderately.  Alas !  for  a  palace  where,  house- 
maids are  merely  human  beings,  and  careless  as  in  less  "  well- 
regulated  families."  Very  absurd  and  unreasonable  is  the  sur- 
prise we  feel  when  anything  within  a  royal  residence  is  found 
agreeing  with  the  ordinary  chances  or  defects  of  common  life. 
I  remember  Mr.  Mathews  returning  from  a  subsequent  visit  to 
his  royal  master  (on  the  eve  of  his  coronation),  and  telling  me 
how  much  he  had  been  diverted  by  observing  a  fracture  (or 
what  a  sempstress  would  term  a  ladder)  in  the  back  part  of  his 
Majesty's  black  silk  stocking,  with  which  he  had  unconsciously 
walked  about  the  whole  evening. 

But  to  return  to  the  result  of  the  Prince's  considerate  fore- 
thought for  the  comfort  of  his  entertainer,  for  whose  performance 
everything  proved  as  technically  arranged  as  if  under  the  super- 
intendence of  a  stage-manager.  At  night,  the  room  assigned 
for  his  refreshment  contained  an  elegant  supper,  and  all  was 
prepared  that  princely  breeding  could  suggest  to  render  every- 
thing agreeable  to  my  husband. 

During  Mr.  Mathews's  performance,  which  was  his  "  Mail- 
coach  Adventures,"  the  Prince  was  not  only  extremely  attentive 
himself,  but  would  not  suffer  a  sound  from  any  of  his  visitors  to 
disturb,  or  an  eye  to  be  turned  away  from,  the  object  of  the 
evening;  nay,  once,  when  "the  Queen  his  mother"  made  some 
observation  aloud  to  a  lady  near  her,  the  Prince,  with,  one  oH  his 
sweet  smiles,  looked  at  her,  and  placed  his  finger  on  his  lips 
expressively,  to  which  silent  reproof  her  Majesty  nodded  good- 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  173 

humouredly,  and  resumed  her  attention.  But  it  was  remarked 
by  my  husband  that,  although  the  Princess  Charlotte  talked 
frequently  and  loudly,  her  royal  father  did  not  seem  to  notice  it, 
or  make  any  attempt  to  check  her  interruptions,  as  he  had  done 
thos(^  of  others  ;  so  far  from  it,  that  had  such  a  thing  been 
possible,  it  might  have  been  supposed  from  his  manner  that  he 
was  unconscious  of  his  daughter's  non-observance  of  his  polite 
example  and  general  injunction. 

Between  the  acts,  which  Mr.  Mathews  had  made  three  for 
the  better  relief  of  his  audience,  the  Prince  came  up  to  him,  and 
chatted  upon  the  different  portions  of  the  entertainment.,  and 
the  recollections  to  which  it  gave  rise.  At  the  close  of  the 
evening  he  shook  hands  with  Mr,.  Mathews,  and  thanked  him  in 
the  names  of  all  present,  and  his  own,  for  "the  treat"  he  had 
afforded  them.  All  this  was  very  gratifying ;  but  my  husband, 
nevertheless,  returned  to  his  cottage,  relieved  tha,t  his  efforts 
were  over,  always  feeling  during  such  tasks  like  him  who,  once 
out  of  his  place  and  position,  sang, 

I  wish  I  was  at  home  again,  and  had  my  working  clothes  on. 

At  the  close  of  Covent  Garden  Theatre  Mr.  Mathews  left 
home  once  more,  on  a  tour  in  the  provinces,  and  to  the  metro- 
polis of  Scotland,  where  he  was,  as  usual,  warmly  welcomed. 

At  the  beginning  of  September  he  received  an  invitation  from 
a  Devonshire  friend  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Exeter,  who  was 
desirous  of  a  visit  from  him  at  this  time,  as  he  said  he  wished 
him  to  see  a  "  very  clever  young  man,"  then  performing  in  the 
above  town — forwarding,  by  way  of  preparation,  the  following 
bill,  which  I  shall  insert,  because  it  is  curious  in  itself,  and  sets 
to  rest  the  question  much  agitated  at  the  time  of  Mr.  Kean's 
first  popularity  in  London,  whether  or  not  he  had  ever  seen  the 
performance  of  Mr.Cooke  (his  celebrated  predecessor  in  "  Bichard 
the  Third"). 

Mr,  Keavbs  Farewell. 
For  one  night  only.     Hotel  Assembly  Room. 

Wednesday,  Sept.  8th,  1813. 

Mr.  Kean,  with  the  most  lively  sense  of  gratitude  for  all  past  favours, 
begs  leave  to  inform  the  inhabitants  of  Exeter,  that  (previously  to  his 
departure  for  the  Theatre  Royal,  Liverpool,)  he  has  selected  a  most 
pleasing  variety  of  Entertainments,  consisting  of  songs,  recitations,  and 
pantomime,  which  he  will  at  the  above-mentioned  rooms  have  the 
honour  of  presenting. 

Part  the  Fiest. — Imitations  of  the  London  Performers,  given  by 


174  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

Mr.  Kean  before  their  Majesties  at  Frogmore  Fete.  Mr.  Kemble,  as 
Cardinal  Wolsey :  "  Had  I  but  served  my  God  with  half  the  zeal  I 
served  my  King,  he  would  not,  in  mine  age,  have  left  me  naked  to  my 
enemies."  Mr.  Cooke,  as  King  Eichard  the  Third.  Mr,  Barrymore, 
as  Earl  Osmond.  Mr.  Incledon,  as  the  Quaker.  Mr.  Braham,  as 
Prince  Orlando.  The  Young  Roseius,  as  Norval.  Mr.  Munden,  as  Sir 
Abel  Hand3^     Mr.  Fawcett,  as  Caleb  Quotem. 

The  celebrated  Comic  Song  of  "  Beggars  and  Ballad  Singers."  The 
African  Slave's  Appeal  to  Liberty.  After  which  a  serious  Ballet  (per- 
formed only  in  the  Theatres  of  Paris,  and  the  Opera-house,  London), 
called  the  "  Instructions  of  Chiron  to  Achilles."  Achilles,  by  the  pupil 
of  Nature,  Master  Howard  Kean.  Chiron,  Mr.  Kean.  With  appro- 
priate music,  dresses,  &c. 

Part  the  Second. — George  Alexander  Stevens's  "  Description  of  a 
Storm,"  in  character,  and  after  the  manner  of  Incledon.  Humorous 
Recitation  of  "  Monsieur  Tonson."  "  Tell  her  I  love  her"  (by  par- 
ticular desire),  Mr.  Kean. 

Admission  tickets,  3s.  to  be  had  of  Mr.  Kean,  at  Miss  Hakes's, 
High-street ;  &c. 


Mr.  Mathews's  approaching  duties  at  Covent  Garden  Theatre, 
however,  precluded  him  from  witnessing  the  "  clever  young 
man's"  performance,  and  he  was  obliged  to  stay  his  curiosity, 
which  was  destined  not  to  remain  long  ungratified,  though  not 
exactly  in  so  versatile  a  way  as  that  offered  to  him  by  his  friend, 
for  Mr.  Kean's  London  engagement  soon  followed. 

It  was  Mr.  Mathews's  wish  that  his  son  should  be  educated 
at  the  school  in  which  he  was  himself  brought  up  (Merchant 
Tailors')  and  he  was  accordingly  placed  upon  the  foundation  by 
our  friend  Mr.  Silvester,  the  Recorder.*  Charles  was,  as  I  have 
before  said,  intended  for  the  Church,  and  this  arrangement 
would  have  proved  a  great  advantage  to  him  in  pursuance  of 
that  intention.  He  boarded  with  the  head-master  of  the  school, 
the  Rev.  Thomas  Cherry  ;  but,  though  thus  provided  with  a 
home,  how  could  the  parents  of  an  only  child,  so  young  too  as 
he  was,  forego  the  means  of  receiving  him  as  often  as  a  holiday- 
gave  occasion  ?  This,  with  some  prudential  reasons,  determined 
my  husband  to  part  with  his  cottage,  of  which  he  was  so  fond, 
and  it  was,  after  a  severe  struggle,  forthwith  advertised  for  sale. 
Before  we  were  prepared  for  removal,  or  could  expect  to  dispose 
of  our  favourite  abode,  a  gentleman  was  introduced  to  Mr. 
Mathews  by  Mr.  Ralph  Benson,  then  M.P.  for  Stafford,  who 
immediately  fell  knee-deep  in  love  with  our  cottage,  and  all  therein 
*  Afterwards  Sir  John  Silvester, 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  175 

contained — literally  so  ;  for  from  that  moment  he  and  his  lady, 
with  her  sister,  who,  like  the  "  slight  acquaintances"  in  Mr. 
Canning's  "  Rovers,"  had  at  the  first  glance  vowed  an  eternal 
friendship  for  me,  became,  in  fact,  our  most  attached  friends. 

After  the  terms  for  the  purchase  of  the  cottage  were  agreed 
upon  (that  is,  the  remainder  of  the  lease),  and  a  quantity  of  fur- 
niture and  fixtures  appropriate  to  the  place,  Mr.  Thompson  (the 
gentleman  who  had  purchased  the  cottage)  pressed  for  imme- 
diate possession.  Anxious  to  accommodate  him,  we  hastily  took 
a  house  in  Cadogan-terrace,  which  we  determined  to  furnish  at 
our  leisure.  In  the  meantime  we  made  our  abode  in  a  furnished 
lodging  in  that  part  of  Lisle-street,  which  looked  down  Leicester- 
place  into  the  square  ;  a  situation  determined  upon  because  it 
was  the  only  one  which  we  could  find  at  the  moment  without  an 
opposite  neighbour,  my  husband  having  a  morbid  horror  of  eyes 
"glaring,"  as  he  said,  upon  all  his  movements.  Here,  in  the 
month  of  June,  we  "located"  for  a  few  months,  and  here  our 
newly-acquired  friends  visited  us  frequently ;  but,  to  Mr. 
Mathews's  great  embarrassment,  no  mention  in  any  of  these 
visits  was  made  of  payment  for  the  "charming  cottage,"  which, 
however,  they  invited  us  to  visit  once,  in  order  to  "  show  our 
eyes,  and  grieve  our  hearts,"  with  the  alterations  (they  called 
them  improvements),  made  with  gilded  finery  and  gaudy  dra- 
peries, in  a  place  which  had  derived  all  its  merit  from  rustic 
fittings  up  of  bamboo,  chintz,  and  white  muslin;  while  the 
walls,  once  overrun  with  roses  on  trellis-paper,  with  looking- 
glass  let  into  the  piers  to  reflect  and  multiply  any  pretty  effects, 
had  given  place  to  yellow  flock-paper,  and  gold  cornices  and 
frames.  All  this,  as  my  husband  observed  to  me,  was  evidence 
of  as  bad  taste  as  eating  the  wrong  ends  of  asparagus  would  be. 
He  was  fretted  to  see  the  pretty  simple  toy  transformed  by 
meretricious  taste  into  a  vulgar  mass  of  pretension;  and  we  never 
went  again — unluckily,  as  it  happened.  Mr.  Thompson,  how- 
ever, still  "took  his  ease  at  our  inn,"  but  was  too  much  of  a 
gentleman  to  mention  money,  and  my  poor  husband  was  too 
delicate  to  introduce  the  word,  believing  from  day  to  day  that  all 
would  come  naturally  round.  His  own  honest  nature  had  not 
suggested  the  expediency  of  any  formal  agreement  with  a  person 
whose  manners  and  mode  of  introduction  seemed  to  ensure  an 
honourable  result.  At  last  I  persnaded  him  to  intimate  gently, 
that  his  arrangements  required  immediate  funds,  and  this  pro- 
duced an  apology,  and  a  promise,  in  the  shape  of  a  note  of  hand, 
payable  at  a  short  date.      But  from  this  moment  the  calls  of 


176  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

my  "  slight  acquaintance,"  his  wife,  became  less  frequent ;  her 
sister,  it  is  true,  stepped  in,  but  her  visits  were  also  "  short  and 
far  between  ;"  while  "  Monsieur  Tonson"  did  not  "  come  again." 
My  husband  was  thus  circumstanced,  when  one  day  an  acquain- 
tance walked  into  tlie  room  with  a  catalogue  in  his  hand  of  a 
sale  from  which  he  had  just  come,  saying  he  would  not  have 
missed  possessing  himself  of  something  that  had  been  ours  for 
the  world  !  What  ?  The  truth  came  out, — the  cottage-lease, 
with  all  the  fixtures  and  effects,  furniture,  glass,  china,  &c.  had 
been  sold  off  by  the  gentleman  so  artfully,  that  we  had  not  even 
heard  of  his  intention ;  and  when  we  sent  to  the  King's-road  to 
make  inquiries  into  the  particulars,  the  cottage  was  found  closed, 
and  all  the  Tonsons  gone  off  to  France,  with  the  proceeds  of  the 
sale  in  their  pockets. 

Here  was  a  loss  (something  indeed  of  the  character  of  Father 
Foigard's)  of  seven  hundred  pounds,  which  we  intended  to  re- 
ceive,* and  bad  as  it  proved,  there  was,  as  in  all  misfortunes, 
some  consolation  mixed  up  in  it.  This  wholesale  swindler  had 
petitioned  hard  to  have  the  paintings  left  which  hung  up  in  one 
of  the  rooms  (for  Mr.  Mathews's  giant  hobby  was  then  in  its 
infancy),  on  the  plea  of  gracing  the  walls  until  time  was  ripe 
for  papering  and  gilding.  But  as  soon  would  my  husband  have 
left  behind  him  an  eye  or  a  limb  as  these  his  treasures ;  and  thus 
he  preserved  what  to  have  been  robbed  of  would  have  grieved 
him  more  than  twenty  times  the  money  lost.  Luckily,  too,  we 
had  not  attempted  to  furnish  the  house  in  Cadogan-terrace ;  but 
we  had  an  expensive  rent  growing  there,  and  this  was  an  addi- 
tional care.  In  this  dilemma,  we  put  off  our  removal  for  a 
month  or  so,  and  Mr.  Mathews  continued  his  Haymarket  en- 
gagement, in  broiling  weather,  in  a  London  lodging,  comforting 
himself  with  the  view  of  his  paintings,  hung  all  over  the  walls 
of  our  sitting-rooms,  which  had  been  snatched  by  his  care  from 
the  common  ruin  of  the  cottage.  All  he  ever  saw  of  the  "  loved 
spot"  more,  was  from  a  peep  over  the  paling,  in  his  rides  and 
drives,  when  his  sight  was  regaled  for  some  weeks  by  closed 
shutters  pasted  over  with  the  bills  of  the  recent  sale  !* 

*  Father  Foigard,  the  Irishman  in  the  comedy  of  the  "  Beaux  Stratagem," 
complains  that  the  runaway  innkeeper  has  robbed  him  of  two  hundred  pounds 
— namely,  one  hundred  that  he  (Foigard)  owed  him,  and  one  hundred  that  he 
intended  to  owe  him. 

t  It  is  but  just  to  Mr.  Ralph  Benson  that  I  explain,  that  when  he  intro- 
duced Mr.  Thompson  to  our  acquaintance,  he  thought  him  still  in  possession 
of  fortune  and  honour :  he  was  not  then  aware  that  he  had  squandered  the  one 
and  discarded  the  other ;  and  Mr.  Benson  himself  was  also  a  severe  sufferer  by 
Mr.  Thompson's  artifices. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  177 

Mr.  Theodore  Hook,  whose  departure  for  the  Mauritius,  it 
may  be  remembered,  has  been  mentioned  in  a  preceding  letter 
from  Mr.  Colman,  had  not,  in  leaving  England,  left  behind  him 
the  recollection  of  his  friends  there.  The  following  communi- 
cation will  be  found  most  interesting  and  characteristic.  As  it 
was  welcome  to  him  to  whom  it  was  addressed,  so  will  it  be 
now  to  the  public,  who  are  admirers  of  Mr.  Hook's  talents. 

To  Charles  Mathews,  Esq. 

La  Reduit,  Mauritius,  March  24tli,  1814. 

My  deae  Mathews, — Uninteresting  as  a  letter  must  be  from  an 
individual  in  a  little  African  island,  to  you  wKo  are  at  the  very  head- 
quarters and  emporium  of  news  and  gaiety,  I  shall  risk  annoying  you 
and  write,  begging  you  to  take  along  with  you  that  the  stupidity  of  my 
epistle  proceeds  in  a  great  measure  from  the  dearth  of  anything  worthy 
the  name  of  intelligence ;  for  if  I  had  anything  to  say,  say  it  I  would. 

I  have  received  so  much  powerful  assistance  from  your  public  talents 
in  my  short  dramatic  career,  and  have  enjoyed  so  very  many  pleasant 
hours  in  your  private  society,  that  I  feel  a  great  pride  and  gratification 
from  this  distance,  where  flattery  cannot  be  suspected,  nor  interested 
motives  attach  themselves  to  praise,  to  express  how  warmly  I  feel  and 
how  duly  I  appreciate  both  your  exertions  and  your  powers ;  and,  as 
the  lovers  say  in  the  Poets, 

Though  mountains  rise  and  oceans  roll  between  us, 

I  shall  not  forget  how  much  I  am  indebted  to  you.  You  have  read 
enough  of  this  island,  I  dare  say,  not  to  imagine  that  we  live  in  huts 
on  the  sea-coast,  or  that,  like  our  gallant  foreftithers,  we  paint  ourselves 
blue,  and  vote  pantaloons  a  prejudice.  We  are  here  surrounded  by 
every  luxury  which  art  can  furnish,  or  dissipation  suggest,  in  a  climate 
the  most  delightful,  in  a  country  the  most  beautiful,  society  the  most 
gay,  and  pursuits  the  most  fascinating. 

This  is,  by  heavens !  a  Paradise,  and  not  without  angels.  The 
women  are  all  handsome  (not  so  handsome  as  English  women),  all 
accomplished,  their  manners  extremely  good,  wit  brilliant,  and  good- 
nature wonderful;  this  is  picking  out  the  best!  The  "oi  TroXXot,"  as 
we  say  at  Oxford,  are,  if  I  may  use  the  word,  mindless — all  blank — 
dance  like  devils,  and  better  than  any  people,  for,  like  all  fools,  they  are 
fond  of  it,  and  naturally  excel  in  proportion  to  their  mental  debihty ; 
for  the  greater  the  fool  the  better  the  dancer. 

We  have  operas  in  the  winter,  which  sets  in  about  July;  but  the 
Opera-house  here  is  a  subscription ;  the  renters  have  quarrelled,  the 
manager,  Fleury,  is  in  prison,  and  the  affairs  of  the  theatre  are  before 
the  courts  of  appeal.  In  short,  the  whole  island  is  like  fairy-land ; 
every  hour  seems  happier  than  the  last;  and,  altogether,  from  the 
mildness  of  the  air  (the  sweetness  of  which,  as  it  passes  over  spice 
plantations  and  orange  groves,  is  hardly  conceivable),  the  clearness  of 


178  THE  LIFE  AND  CORKESPONPENCE  OF 

.the  atmosphere,  the  coolness  of  the  evenings,  and  the  loveliness  of  the 
place  itself,  all  combine  to  render  it  fascination.  The  very  thought  of 
ever  quitting  it  is  like  the  apprehension  of  the  death  or  long  parting 
with  some  near  relation  ;  and  if  it  were  not  that  this  feeling  is  counter- 
acted by  having  some  friends  at  home,  whom  I  shall  be  anxious  to  see, 
there  is  no  inducement  that  would  draw  me  from  such  a  perfect  Thule. 

I  have  wept  over  poor  Virginia's  grave ;  I  saw  her  cottage,  and  an 
old  slave  whose  father  remembers  the  loss  of  the  St.  Guan.  I  do  not 
know  what  this  gentleman's  papa  might  have  been,  but  I  like  Munden 
in  Dominique  infinitely  better.*     Your  neighbour,  the  Nova  Scotia 

baronet.  Sir  R B ,  and  his  daughter,  made  a  similar  exhibition 

on  the  same  spot.  The  Itoxhurgli  Castle,  in  which  they  came  out, 
came  to  this  island  about  ten  days  sooner  than  the  captain  or  the  crew 
expected,  and  therefore  bumped  ashore.  All  the  cargo  lost,  but  the 
baronet  and  his  daughter  were  saved. 

I  send  you  in  this  letter  a  piece  of  the  bamboo  which  I  pulled  from 
Paul  and  Virginia's  grave. 

I  nmst  request  you  will  acknowledge  this  letter,  and  tell  me  some 
news.  I  have  given  up  all  thoughts  of  finishing  my  Covent  Garden 
farce,  and  have  returned  Harry  Harris  the  money  he  had  paid  me  en 
avance ;  so  that  you  see  I  am  turned  lazy.  However,  I  shall  be  just 
as  happy  to  hear  of  all  things  going  on ;  not  but  I  suppose,  by  the 
time  I  come  back  to  England,  I  shall  hear  that  Mr.  Watkins  is  the  best 
Samlet,  Mr.  Higgens  the  most  effective  Archer,  and  Mrs.  Grogan  the 
sweetest  Juliet  that  ever  acted  ;  so  much  will  time  change  circum- 
Btances.     Pray  remember  me  to  Colman. 

Make  my  kind  remembrances  to  Mrs.  Mathews,  and  tell  her  that  I 
hope  to  shake  hands  with  her  when  we  are  both  twaddlers — that  is, 
when  she  is  as  much  of  a  twaddler  as  old  age  can  make  her ;  and  that 
when  I  return  upon  crutches  from  foreign  parts,  I  trust  she  will  direct 
her  son  to  pay  me  every  attention  due  to  my  infirmities.  By  the  way, 
hang  me  if  all  3^our  French  farces,  prints,  costumes,  and  all,  arn't  here. 
What  shall  I  do  ?  I  will  send  them — first  to  Fleury,  and  desire  him 
to  act  them  here ;  then  I  will  point  out  the  effective,  and  return  thera 
to  you.  I  do  assure  you  I  do  not  know  how  they  got  here  ;  but  Roll's 
farces  are  here,  too,  which  I  will  take  great  care  of,  and  bring  back 
with  me  whenever  I  come. 

I  hope  they  are  all  well.  Any  private  theatre  this  year  ?  I  suppose 
so,  for  it  is  as  impossible  for  an  alderman  not  to  love  turtle,  as  it  would 
be  for  Rolls  not  to  do  everything  he  can  to  make  his  friends  happy. 

Psha !  my  letter  is  all  about  myself.     Egotism  from  beginning  to  the 

end.     Like  Argus,  there  are  at  least  a  hundred  Z's  in  it.     Well,  d • 

my  /'s,  I  will  substitute  the  other  vowel,  and  assure  you  that,  although 
at  this  distance,  I  am  sincerely  and  truly  yours,  and  that  you  will  find 
even  in  Mauritm^  U  and  I  are  not  far  asunder.  "  If  3'ou  happen  to 
know"  how  Hill  is,  let  me  hear  of  him,  and  make  my  regards — "  pooh ! 

*  Bomi^iigue,  a  comic  character  in  the  afterpiece  of  "Paul  and  Yirginia." 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  179 

thousands  of  them.     Not  thousands  exactly,"  but  enough  to  prove  how- 
happy  I  shall  be  to  hear  he  is  well. 

D ,  if  he  has  not  grown  wiser  as  he  has  grown  older,  is,  I  sup- 
pose, married.  In  his  situation  "  a  joke's  a  joke."  "  Blood  !  but  that's 
too  much  for  friendship."  I  can't  spell  the  noise  he  makes  with  his 
mouth,  or  I  would  add  that. 

Where  is  poor  Ben  Thompson  P  I  find  by  a  letter  which  has  been 
opened  in  England,  from  him  to  me,  that  he  "  damns  my  iron  heart" 
for  having  deserted  him  in  his  utmost  need :  wherein  he  is  wrong.  I 
deserted  my  country ;  "  My  native  land  I  bade  adieu,"  but  circum- 
stances, ccelum  non  animum,  mutant,  and  I  am  as  much  and  as  warmly 
interested  in  him  and  his  fate  as  ever. 

Is  Mrs.  Scott  Waring  likely  to  add  to  the  family  at  Peterborough 
House  ?  If  she  does,  I  think  Master  John  and  his  father  will  be  two, 
and,  logical  rubs  set  aside,  the  major  and  the  minor  won't  agree.  So 
that  whether  in  Europe  or  Africa,  the  charm  and  spell  are  the  same.  I 
enclose  you  Mr.  Fleury's  letter  to  me  as  a  theatrical  bijou.  His  way  of 
spelling  my  name  not  bad. 

Our  races  begin  in  July ;  we  have  also  an  excellent  beef-steak  club  ; 
the  best  Freemasons'  lodge  in  the  world.  We  have  subscription 
concerts  and  balls,  and  the  parties  in  private  houses  here  are  seldom 
less  than  from  two  to  three  hundred.  At  the  last  ball  given  by  Mrs. 
Farquhar,  at  the  Government -house,  upwards  of  seven  hundred  and 
fifty  ladies  were  present,  which,  considering  that  the  greater  proportion 
of  the  female  population  are  not  admissible,  proves  the  number  of 
inhabitants,  and  the  extent  of  the  society. 

I  dare  say  some  of  my  fat-headed  friends  in  that  little  island  where 
the  beef  grows,  and  where  you  live,  fancy  that  I  am  making  a  fortune, 
considering  that  I  am  Treasurer  !  Accountant-general !  Fresh  butter, 
my  dear  fellow,  is  ten  shillings  per  pound  ;  a  coat  costs  thirty  pounds 
English ;  a  pair  of  gloves  fifteen  shillings ;  a  bottle  of  claret,  the  best, 
tenpence ;  and  pine-apples,  a  penny  a  piece.  Thus,  you  see,  while  the 
articles  necessary  to  existence  are  exorbitant,  luxuries  are  dirt  cheap, 
and  a  pretty  life  we  do  lead.  Breakfast  at  eight,  always  up  by  gun-fire, 
five  o'clock;  bathe  and  ride  before  breakfast,  after  breakfast  lounge 
about;  at  one  have  a  regular  meal,  ycleped  a  tiffin — hot  meats, 
vegetables,  and  at  this  we  sit  generally  through  the  heat  of  the  day, 
drinking  our  wine  and  munching  our  fruit ;  at  five,  or  half-past,  the 
carriages  come  to  the  door,  and  we  go  either  in  them  or  in  palan- 
quins to  dress,  which  operation  performed,  we  drive  out  to  the  race- 
ground,  and  through  the  Champ  de  Mars,  the  Hyde  Park  here,  till  half- 
past  six  ;  come  into  town,  and  at  seven  dine,  where  we  remain  till  ten 
or  eleven,  and  then  join  the  French  parties,  as  there  is  regularly  a  ball 
somewhere  or  other  every  night :  these  things,  blended  with  business, 
make  out  the  day  and  evening. 

I  shall  draw  to  a  conclusion  this  very  dull  letter,  by  assuring  you, 
with  my  best  regards  to  Mrs.  Mathews,  and  Charles,  how  truly  I  am. 
Dear  Mathews,  yours,        T.  E.  Hook. 

n2 


180  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

Mr.  Mathews's  severe  accident  in  company  with  Mr.  Terry — Mr.  Colman's 
letter— Mr.  Mathews's  re-appearancee  at  the  Haymarket  in  '*  Hocus 
Pocus" — Mr.  Mathews  at  Brighton — His  lameness  incurable — Letter  of  Mr. 
Henry  Harris — Mr.  Mathews's  letters  to  Mrs.  Mathews  from  Birmingham 
and  Stratford-upon-Avon. 

On  the  22nd  of  July,  1814,  just  after  Mr.  Mathews  had  made 
his  second  appearance  in  Falstaff^  and  was  prepared  to  "  trammel 
up  the  consequence"  by  fresh  improvement  upon  his  successful 
efforts  in  that  difficult  part,  an  event  occurred  which  altered  the 
whole  course  of  his  professional  feelings,  and  suspended  his  public 
exertions  for  a  time  altogether.  Mr.  Mathews,  whose  only  means 
now  of  escaping  sometimes  from  London  smoke  depended  upon 
an  occasional  drive  in  his  tilbury,  had  one  day  arranged  to  take 
me  with  him  for  an  hour  or  so ;  when  Mr.  Terry,*  full  of  anxiety 
and  haste,  came  up  to  the  door  just  as  we  were  starting,  and 
earnestly  requested,  as  a  great  favour,  that  I  would  resign  my 
place  to  him,  as  he  had  the  most  pressing  desire  to  be  taken 
quickly  a  few  miles  out  of  town  on  important  and  sudden  busi- 
ness, and  had  come  for  the  purpose  of  soliciting  the  drive.  Of 
course,  I  immediately  descended,  and  the  two  friends  drove  off. 
In  a  few  minutes  after,  a  stranger  knocked  loudly  at  the  street- 
door,  and  briefly  announced  that  "  Mr.  Mathews  had  just  been 
thrown  out  of  his  tilbury,  and  was  dangerously  hurt,"  adding  no 
intelHgence  of  the  place  where  the  event  had  occurred.  The 
servant  to  whom  this  inconsiderate  information  was  delivered, 
in  his  first  alarm  immediately  ran  up  to  me,  repeating  in  an 
agitated  voice  the  alarming  news.    I  remained  in  a  state  of  great 

*  Daniel  Terry,  comedian,  born  1780,  and  originally  intended  for  an  archi- 
tect, evinced  a  great  liking  for  the  stage,  which  was  fostered  by  his  most 
intimate  friend,  Sir  Walter  Scott,  who  obtained  him  several  engagements,  and 
in  1825  advanced  him  the  capital  requisite  to  become  joint  partner  with  Mr. 
Tates  in  the  lesseeship  of  the  Adelphi  Theatre.  On  Sir  Walter's  bankruptcy, 
Mr.  Terry  found  it  necessary  to  sell  his  share  in  the  property,  and  retired  to 
the  Continent,  where  he  died  in  1828, 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  181 

agitation  a  full  hour,  when  a  coach  slowly  approached  the  house, 
and  my  husband  was  taken  from  it,  as  I  believed  dead  !  This 
dreadful  apprehension  was  changed  to  a  feeling  of  almost  equal 
sorrow  from  the  afflicting  groans  uttered  by  the  sufferer,  insen- 
sible as  he  seemed  in  other  respects,  while  two  strangers  bore 
him  up-stairs  to  his  room. 

I  can  but  imperfectly  remember  the  particulars  of  that  day 
and  night,  for  a  dangerous  illness  attacked  me  shortly  after, 
which  almost  caused  an  oblivion  of  the  preceding  horrors,  except 
when  I  was  aroused  to  some  recollection  of  it  by  the  frequent 
groans  of  my  dear  husband,  who  lay  in  the  next  chamber  to 
myself  in  agonies  too  great  to  be  conceived,  whenever  the  sur- 
geons attempted  to  ascertain  the  nature  of  his  hurt.  When  any 
change  of  position  was  requisite,  these  evidences  of  suffering 
were  heart-piercing.  Only  for  a  time,  however,  while  they  were 
intense,  did  he  allow  what  he  felt  to  appear  to  those  about  him. 
Impatient  in  trifles,  he  was  the  most  calm  and  enduring  of  human 
beings  on  all  great  occasions ;  and  it  always  seemed  to  me  as  if 
he  resented  petty  annoyances,  because  they  rose  from  petty 
sources,  but  that  he  bent  with  humble  resignation  to  greater  in- 
flictions because  he  believed  they  came  direct  from  the  Almighty. 
In  the  intervals  of  his  excessive  pains  he  became  even  merry, 
and  sportive  as  a  child.  When  he  was  tired  of  reading,  he  would 
amuse  himself  with  his  violin,  flute,  and  flageolet  in  turn  ;  and 
when  he  heard  a  visitor  approaching,  whom  he  guessed  came 
with  a  serious  face  of  condolement  to  the  house,  expecting  to 
find  him  in  a  most  wretched  state  of  mind  as  well  as  body,  ho 
would  scrape  up  a  tune,  after  the  manner  of  a  blind  fiddler  at  a 
fair,  and  welcome  the  person  with  all  sorts  of  drollery.  A  friend 
one  day  laughing  at  his  musical  vein  at  such  a  time,  brought 
him  when  he  next  called  two  other  instruments,  which  he  had 
purchased  at  the  Hyde-park  Fair,  held  in  commemoration  of  the 
visit  of  the  illustrious  foreigners  to  England,  in  order,  as  he  said, 
to  afford  him  variety  in  his  practice.  These  the  invalid  received 
with  much  gravity  and  affected  gratitude ;  when  the  donor  left 
him,  he  applied  himself  to  the  study  of  the  Jew's-harp  and 
penny  trumpet,  in  both  of  which  it  was  his  humour  to  attain  a 
proficiency  before  the  next  visit  of  his  friend.  His  success  with 
the  latter  instrument  was  confessed  two  or  three  years  after  by 
the  public,  when  in  the  character  of  one  of  the  Master  D'dherrys 
he  performed  "  God  Save  the  King"  upon  it,  and  convulsed  the 
audience  with  laughter.  In  this  manner,  propped  up  in  his  bed, 
he  cheated  his  pains — and  I  fear  misled  his  medical  men,  who 


182  THE  LIFE  AND  COKEESPONDENCE  OF 

probably  considered  bis  case  less  serious,  from  bis  cbeerfulness 
under  it ;  for  bow  could  tbey  be  aware  tbat  a  man  so  sensitive 
and  restless  upon  minor  matters,  could  be  capable  of  sucb  en- 
durance of  intense  suffering  ?  Tbey  did  not  know  that  one  was 
the  triumph  of  nerves — the  other  of  heart. 

But  to  the  particulars  of  the  accident.  Mr.  Terry's  business 
carrying  them  down  Charing-cross^,  they  were  proceeding  thither 
very  rapidly.  Mr.  Mathews  was  driving  a  favourite  blood-horse' 
of  high  courage  (a  term  which  describes  an  animal  more  sus- 
ceptible of  fear  than  any  other).  Suddenly,  from  some  unper- 
ceived  cause,  the  creature  was  startled,  and  before  the  driver 
could  pull  up  his  somewhat  slackened  reins,  the  horse  dropped 
his  tail  over  one  of  them  so  fixedly  that  all  control  over  him  was 
lost,  and  he  trotted  onwards  with  desperate  speed.  Dreading  a 
collision  with  one  of  the  many  vehicles  meeting  them,  Mr.  Ma- 
thews used  the  one  rein  on  his  left  side  to  avoid  the  public  way, 
when  the  sudden  check  of  turning  into  Privy  Gardens  over  the 
slippery  pathway  caused  the  horse  to  fall,  and  the  shock  threw 
out  to  a  great  distance  my  husband  and  his  friend,  who  were 
both  taken  up  quite  insensible.  How  they  were  recognised,  I 
never  knew,  or  I  have  forgotten.  Mr.  Terry  was  at  first  sup- 
posed to  be  the  most  seriously  injured  of  the  two,  but  happily, 
in  less  than  a  fortnight  he  appeared  as  well  as  ever,  having  only 
broken  two  of  his  ribs.  This  result  was,  I  remember,  a  great 
source  of  comfort  to  my  husband  in  his  calamity,  whose  first 
anxiety  was  for  him  to  whom  he  had,  though  innocently,  caused 
such  a  misfortune. 

This  accident  was  not  only  painful  to  Mr.  Terry,  and  serious 
to  my  husband,  but  at  the  same  time  most  embarrassing  to  the 
proprietors  of  the  Hay  market  Theatre,  whose  whole  dependence 
was  upon  these  two  performers  for  the  season.  Mr.  Mathews 
had,  a  few  evenings  before,  made  what  is  technically  called  a  hit, 
in  the  character  of  Falstaff,  and  had,  as  I  have  already  said,  re- 
peated it  the  night  previously  to  this  sad  catastrophe  with 
increased  effect.  The  surgeons  did  not  anticipate  any  lasting 
consequences  from  the  hurt,  and  even  promised  a  speedy  restora- 
tion. Under  such  a  report  it  could  neither  be  wondered  at  that 
Mr.  Colman  was  anxious,  in  his  distress,  for  Mr.  Mathews's  re- 
turn, who  on  his  part  felt  a  generous  concern  for  the  situation 
of  his  employer.  Sanguine  of  his  speedy  recovery,  he  allowed 
a  character  to  be  written  for  him  by  Mr.  Colman,  for  his  re- 
appearance. The  importance  of  the  loss  sustained  by  the  theatre 
in  the  absence  of  my  husband's  services  is  a  fact  of  which  Mr; 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  183^ 

Colman  was  too  generous  to  wish  to  withhold  his  full  appre- 
ciation. 

On  the  12th  of  August,  the  following  account,  published  at 
the  time,  announces  his  return  to  the  Haymarket,  under  cir- 
cumstances as  painful  as  unprecedented. 

A  new  afterpiece,  under  the  title  of  "  Hocus  Pocus,  or  Harlequin 
Washed  White,"  was  produced  here.  It  is  a  species  of  performance 
which  defies  criticism ;  partaking  at  once  of  farce,  comedy,  tragedy, 
and  pantomime,  and  possessing  the  novelty  of  three  harlequins,  and 
apparently  designed  for  the  purpose  of  introducing  Mr.  Mathews  to 
the  public  again,  after  his  recovery  from  his  late  severe  accident. 

The  prologue  was  spoken  by  Mr.  Terry,  and  contained  some  good 
points,  which  weue  loudly  applauded.  After  it  was  concluded,  Mr. 
Terry  addressed  the  audience  as  follows : — 

"  Ladies  and  Gentlemen. — Before  the  curtain  rises  I  am  requested  to 
say  a  few  words  to  you  in  behalf  of  an  invalid.  Mr.  Mathews  (applause) 
still  continues  to  suffer  much,  very  much,  from  his  late  severe  accident ; 
but  he  trusts  that  his  anxiety  in  coming  forward  thus  early  to  perform 
his  duty  to  you,  and  to  fulfil  his  engagements  here,  will  atone  for  his 
deficiencies  in  bodily  activity,  requisite  to  the  character  he  is  about  to 
sustain.  (Great  applause.)  A  former  very  celebrated  proprietor  of  this 
theatre  once  enjoyed  the  fullest  favour  as  *  a  devil  upon  two  sticks,* 
and  it  is  hoped,  nay,  it  cannot  be  doubted,  that  you  will  now  extend 
your  utmost  indulgence  to  a  *  harlequin  upon  one.'  "* 

It  is  needless  to  add,  that  Mr.  Mathews  was  on  his  appearance  greeted 
with  the  loudest  applause.  He  is  still  extremely  lame,  and  required  a 
crutch  stick  for  his  support.  His  right  side  seems  to  have  particularly 
suffered,  and  it  is  difl&cult  to  separate  the  idea  of  pain  from  even  his 
happiest  efforts. 

In  one  scene,  where  he  disguised  himself  as  "  Jacky  Long  Legs,"  it 
was  impossible  to  conceive  anything  more  perfect  than  the  modification 
of  his  voice  in  imitating  a  child  six  years  old. 

The  following  impromptu  on  this  performance  appeared  in  a 
newspaper  at  the  time  : — 

It  seems,  if  obliged  on  his  crutches  to  play. 

At  Harlequin,  Mathews  will  aim. 
If  so,  very  fairly  the  public  may  say, 

'Tis  the  first  time  his  efforts  were  lame. 

At  the  close  of  the  Haymarket  season  Mr.  Mathews  went  to 
Brighton  for  the  advantage  of  the  shampooing  baths,  which 
Mr.  Carpue  had  so  strenuously  recommended ;  and  there  upon' 
his  crutches  he  at  least  felt  the  benefit  of  air  and  rest. 

*  The  celebrated  proprietor  will  of  course  be  recollected — Mr.  Foote,  the 
Aristophanes  of  his  day,  had  the  misfortune  to  lose  his  leg  by  an  accident 
similar,  I  believe,  to  that  of  Mr,  Mathews,, 


184  THE  LIFE  AND  COEKESPONDENCE  OF 

It  must  be  evident  that  Mr.  Mathews  knew  his  own  case  best, 
even  better  than  his  surgeons,  as  the  result — namely,  twenty- 
five  years'  sad  experience  of  incurable  lameness — proved;  not 
that  he  then  believed  he  should  be  so  afflicted  for  the  remainder 
of  his  life ;  but  his  scepticism  as  to  a  speedy  recovery  was  justi- 
fied by  his  own  feelings,  although  his  fortitude,  and  frequent 
high  spirits,  misled  his  surgeons.  These  will  sufficiently  excuse 
and  account  for  their  miscalculations  of  the  extent  of  the  injury 
he  had  sustained. 

The  following  is  a  kind  letter  from  his  manager,  Mr.  Henry 
Harris : — 

To  Charles  Mathews^  Esq. 

Nov.  5th,  1814. 

Beae  Mathews, — While  you  are  deriving  advantage  from  the 
shampooing,  sea  air,  and  riding,  I  should  by  no  means  advise  you  to 
quit  that  certainty  for  any  uncertain  remedy.  In  what  I  said  I  only 
meant,  that  when  from  the  bad  weather  setting  in,  you  come  to  a  stand- 
still and  cannot  report  progress,  then  you  had  better  come  to  town, 
and  try  electricity,  which,  whatever  is  said  to  the  contrary,  I  know 
from  experience  in  many  cases,  is  of  great  assistance  when  properly 
and  regularly  applied  by  a  skilful  operator,  very  seldom  to  be  met  with, 
but  which  my  friend  Lowndes  most  certainly  is. 

Robins  quite  misunderstood  me  in  stating  that  your  acting  at  the 
Haymarket  weakened  your  claim  for  a  salary :  as  there  is  no  precedent 
for  any  such  claim,  without  having  joined  the  company,  how  can  it  be 
weakened  ? 

I  might  have  lamented  that  you  ever  did  perform  there  after  your 
accident,  as  it  has  so  much  retarded  your  cure,  and  deprived  us  of  your 
assistance ;  but  under  all  the  circumstances  I  do  not  see  how  you  could, 
without  the  sacrifice  of  their  interests,  have  done  otherwise,  more 
particularly  previous  to  Mrs.  Gibbs's  benefit.  After  that  by  taking 
advantage  of  my  command,  you  might  have  got  away  for  a  week 
sooner ;  but  I  agree  with  you,  that  it  is  quite  useless  to  refer  to  what 
cannot  now  be  prevented,  and  so  let  the  subject  drop. 

I  wish  it  was  in  our  power  to  do  more  for  you,  for  I  assure  you  I 
feel  much  for  your  losses  ;  but  I  hope  that  the  succeeding  year  will  be 
as  lucky  as  the  last  was  unfortunate,  and  that  you  will  be  able  to  bring 
up  your  lee-way. 

Kobins  mentioned  something  about  your  performing  your  Budget 
for  a  few  nights  previously  to  your  playing  in  London  :  if  you  can  put 
a  few  hundreds  in  your  pocket  in  that  way,  you  know  I  should  not 
object  to  it. 

Miss  O'Neil  established  herself  last  night  in  Isabella,  as  the  fi.rst 
tragic  actress  of  the  day :  her  attraction  is  likely  to  continue,  having 
real  merit  for  its  support. 

The  Macbeth*  of  to-night  I  should  think  would  be  difierent. 

*  At  Drury-lane. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  185 

T  find  you  do  not  like  the  little  piece  that  was  sent  you :  it  had  an 
effect  in  Paris,  and  I  thought,  with  your  suggestions,  it  might  have 
done. 

Ever  yours  sincerely,        H.  Haeeis. 

In  consequence  of  Mr.  Harris's  permission,  my  husband  re- 
sumed his  public  labours,  performing  his  entertainment  of  the 
"  Mail-coach,"  first  at  Brighton  to  crowded  houses,  and  after- 
wards at  the  various  towns,  whence  he  writes  to  me  on  my  return 
home. 

To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Birmingham,  Dec.  15th,  1814. 

You  have  really  been  more  anxious  and  uneasy  respecting  my  accident 
and  the  ultimate  consequence  than  myself..  I  cannot  reward  your 
kindness  at  present,  but  by  immediate  attention  to  your  desires  and 
anxiety.  Instantly  on  the  receipt  of  your  letter  I  consulted  a  surgeon  ; 
the  experiment  has  been  made ;.  I  have  been  perched  up  against  the 
wall  before  two  persons,  at  distinct  times  and  places,  and  the  unquali- 
fied opinion  is,  that  there  is  not  the  minutest  atom  of  difference  between 
the  two  feet  when  close  together — both  legs  are  of  a  length.  I  have 
just  arrived  at  the  hospital  with  the  surgeon,  who  has  brought  me 
here  for  the  benefit  of  the  best  electrical  machine  in  the  town.  I  have 
had  the  satisfaction,  for  the  first  time  since  my  accident,  of  seeing  two 
skeletons,  one  with,  and  the  other  without  muscles.  I  have  therefore 
a  good  idea  of  the  nature  of  my  accident,  which  has  been  described  to 
me  practically  and  theoretically.  I  am  almost  afraid  *  *  *  *  is  a 
blockhead ;  the  surgeons  here  laughed  at  the  socket  of  the  muscle.  I 
may  have  one — but  it  is  peculiar — a  gift,  like  ventriloquism,  for  I 
cannot  find  it  in  the  remains  of  the  two  respectable  gentlemen  I  have 
seen,  and  one  was  a  very  skilful  mail-robber  and  murderer,  six  feet  four, 
I  have  just  been  electrified,  which  I  shall  be  everj^  day  while  I  am  here. 
Now  write  me  what  Carpue  says, — will  he  promise  me  to  be  quite  well 
again  ?  I  don't  care  one  penny  if  it  is  two  years  to  come,  for  I  never 
wish  to  act  again,  and  that  will  please  the  inquisitorial  editor.  I'll  be 
only  a  "  mimic."  The  surgeon  here  thinks  I  shall  walk  again.  As 
soon  as  Carpue  promises  this,  let  me  know.  In  great  haste,  but 
delighted  to  save  the  post,  and  you,  dearest,  a  moment's  uneasiness, 
I  am  ever  (lame  or  active)  yours,        C,  Mathews. 


To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Stratford,  Dec.  19th,  1814. 
I  think  I  said  in  my  last,  I  should  not  quit  Birmingham  before 
Monday ;  but,  thank  Heaven,  I  have  made  my  escape ! 

I  have  accepted  an  offer  from  the  manager  of  Warwick  and  Stratford- 
upon-Avon,  to  fill  up  my  time  till  Christmas,  when  I  join  Crisp  at 
Shrewsbury,  that  I  may  enjoy  an  opportunity  which  never  before 


186  THE  LIFE  AND   COREESPONDENCE  OF 

presented  Itself,  of  wandering  about  the  place  where  the  divine  Willy, 
"  Sweet  swan  of  Avon,"  was  born.  I  open  there  to-morrow,  and  play 
a  second  night  on  Thursday.  I  have  to-day  been  over  Warwick 
Castle,  one  of  the  most  magnificent  specimens  of  Gothic  architecture 
now  left  in  the  kingdom.  There  are  some  glorious  pictures  by  Rubens, 
Rembrandt,  lots  of  Vandykes,  very  interesting  indeed;  original 
portraits  of  the  Charlese^  Henry  VIII.,  Mary  Queen  of  Scots,  and  one 
that  would  have  made  you  scream — a  portrait  of  poor  old  George's 
mother,  and  of  him  when  an  infant,  and  so  like  him !  They  showed 
me  the  ribs  of  the  dun  cow  that  Guy  slew,  certainly  large  enough  for 
an  elephant ;  his  sword,  above  four  feet  long ;  his  walking-stick,  seven 
feet;  and  his  porridge-pot  of  bronze,  weighing  eight  hundred  lbs., 
and  capable  of  containing  one  hundred  gallons,  which  the  porter  gravely 
told  me  Guy  could  eat  half  full  for  his  breakfast. 

C.  Mathews. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  18? 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

Mr.  Mathews's  return  to  town,  and  appearance  in  the  character  of 

Whimsical  mistake — Lord  Tamworth. — Result  of  a  Greenwich  dinner — A 
moral  lesson — Dinner  at  Long's  with  Mr.  Walter  Scott  and  Lord  Byron — 
Mr.  Mathews  leaves  town  with  Mr.  Walter  Scott — The  ' '  Man  on  the  Great 
Horse,"  a  startling  incident  of  the  road — Letters  of  Mr.  Mathews  from 
Northampton  —  Account  of  his  performance  there  —  Mr.  Mathews  visits 
Warwick  Castle  and  Kenilworth  with  Mr.  Walter  Scott — Indiscreet  dis- 
closure of  the  authorship  of  the  Waverley  novels — Letter  from  Mr.  Mathews 
from  Staffordshire;  great  theatrical  exertion;  curious  epitaphs — Letter 
from  Mr.  Mathews  from  Derbyshire — Invitation  of  Mr.  Mathews  to  Windsor 
Castle  by  Queen  Charlotte — The  Irish  Mathews  and  his  wife. 

At  the  close  of  his  provincial  ramble,  Mr.  Mathews  adjourned  to 
Brighton,  whence,  after  a  stay  of  some  duration,  he  returned  to 
town  on  the  28th  of  March,  and  performed  Falsiqff  {or  the  first 
time  at  Covent  Garden. 

Mr.  Mathews  had  a  great  horror  of  a  crowd,  however  genteel 
a  one  it  might  be.  A  large  evening  party  was  his  particular 
abhorrence,  and  whenever  we  dined  at  any  house,  and  heard 
during  the  dessert  the  street-door  intimation  that  the  hostess 
"  saw  company"  in  the  evening,  Mr.  Mathews  would  give  me  a 
look  almost  of  anguish.  When  obliged  to  appear  in  the  drawing- 
room,  he  would  do  so  in  the  most  quiet  manner,  and  then  place 
himself  as  much  as  possible  out  of  general  observation.  A  curious 
circumstance  happened  one  evening  about  this  time,  in  an  in- 
sufferably crowded  room.  We  were  sitting  behind  a  door  upori 
one  large  chair  (the  only  one  vacant),  his  lameness  requiring  rest, 
and  his  gallantry  not  choosing  to  allow  me  to  stand:  we  were 
waiting  for  an  opportunity  to  escape  without  chance  of  arrest 
by  the  lady  of  the  house,  when  a  servant  out  of  livery  presented 
some  ices.  My  husband  took  one,  and  the  man  passed  on.  Mr. 
Mathews,  finding  himself  refreshed  by  this,  beckoned  another 
man,  who  seemed  in  attendance,  gave  him  the  empty  glass,  and 
told  him  to  fetch  another  ice.  In  due  time  the  man  returned, 
smiling  and  bowing  as  he  presented  the  ice,  and  remained  in 
waiting  to  take  away  the  glass,  which  was  given  to  him  \  and  he 


188  THE  LIFE  AND  COEEESPONDENCE  OF 

again  disappeared.  Presently  he  returned  to  the  spot  where 
Mr.  Mathews  had  first  seen  him,  and  shortly  afterwards  a  gentle- 
man whom  he  knew  went  up  to  him  and  entered  into  famihar 
chat,  as  it  seemed.  Suddenly  we  saw  our  attendant  take  an 
opera  hat  (the  fashion  of  that  day)  off  a  chair  near  him,  and  walk 
away  arm-in-arm  with  his  friend,  for  such  he  proved.  In  short, 
our  supposed  servant  out  of  livery  turned  out  to  be  Lord  Tam- 
worth,  who  saw  through  my  husband's  mistake,  and  good- 
naturedly  humoured  it. 

I  have  sometimes  thought  that  there  is  more  propriety  and 
meaning  in  costly  apparel  in  the  upper  ranks  than  most  people 
suppose,  and  that  a  gold-brocaded  waistcoat  upon  a  man  of  title 
or  fashion  carries  a  moral  with  it,  for  being  too  expensive  to  be 
purchased  by  a  poor  man,  and  too  splendid  in  its  effect  to  be 
tolerated  in  common  life,  the  wearer  must  either  have  palpably  a 
right  to  such  a  distinction,  or  suffer  under  the  ridicule  of  aping 
his  betters.  Thus,  the  necessity  of  looking  different  from  his 
superior  precludes  the  temptation  of  imitating  his  habits  of  life. 

During  this  summer  "  The  Chip  of  the  Old  Block,"  written 
by  his  friend  and  brother  actor  (and  successor  in  York),  Mr. 
Knight.  ("  Little  Knight"),  and  adapted  to  what  was  a  most 
delightful  portion  of  his  acting — namely,  a  half-tipsy  droll* — was 
performed.  Mr.  Mathews  was  peculiarly  happy  in  this  style  of 
character,  and  those  who  have  seen  his  Caleb  Fiplcin,  in  the 
"May  Queen"  (one  of  the  same  class),  and  the  gentleman- 
tipsiness  of  his  Bashful  Man,  will  allow  that  in  every  represen- 
tation of  inebriety  he  was  perfect.  Indeed,  it  was  strange  how 
completely  he  entered  into  every  mood  in  which  intoxication  is 
to  be  found,  certainly  without  any  experience  in  his  own  person, 
and  he  never  could  endure  the  contemplation  of  it  in  another 
with  any  good  humour. 

His  disgust  of  a  drunken  man  was  almost  feminine,  and  any 
one  who  drank  to  excess  habitually  he  never  thoroughly  esteemed, 
however  worthy  in  other  respects  the  person  might  seem  to  be. 
A  very  young  man  whom  he  knew  had  the  unfortunate  propensity 
of  daily  taking  more  wine  than  his  brain  could  bear.  Upon  one 
occasion,  after  a  G-reenwich  dinner,  this  person  behaved  so 
obstreperously  in  the  carriage  as  the  party  returned  to  town, 
that  he  exceedingly  annoyed  his  friends,  and  even  gave  them 
blows.      Mr.  Mathews,  who  was  present,    enlisted   the  other 

*  In  this  piece  his  celebrated  "Nightingale  Club,"  written  for  him  by  Mr. 
Colman,  was  first  sung. 


CHAELES  MATHEWS.  ]89 

gentlemen  in  the  coach  in  a  plot  to  shame,  if  possible,  th6 
youthful  offender  out  of  this  dreadful  habit.  It  was  agreed  that 
he  should  be  told  the  next  morning  that  he  had,  during  his  over- 
night's paroxysm,  beaten  and  injured  my  husband  severely  in  the 
coach.  Consequently,  as  soon  as  he  heard  this,  the  young  man 
announced  himself  before  Mr.  Mathews  was  out  of  bed,  who, 
upon  hearing  who  his  visitor  was,  got  up  and  prepared  himself 
in  a  manner  that  was  quite  extraordinary  in  so  short  a  time, 
telling  me  not  to  seem  surprised  at  what  he  would  explain  at 
leisure.  He  entered  the  room  where  the  abashed  visitor  was  in 
waiting  to  apologize  for  his  behaviour,  and  the  injuries  he  had 
inflicted.  When  he  beheld  my  husband,  he  started  back,  as  well 
he  might,  and  almost  groaned,  so  shocked  was  he  at  the  dreadful 
state  in  which  his  friend  appeared.  Mr.  Mathews  had  coloured 
his  face  as  if  bruised ;  but'  the  additional  expression  of  suffering 
which  he  contrived  to  throw  into  it  was  wonderful  even  to  me, 

who  was  in  the  secret.     Poor absolutely  shed  tears,  walked 

about  the  room  in  all  the  agony  of  shame  and  remorse,  declared 
he  would  never  more  exceed  a  reasonable  quantity  of  the  exas- 
perating liquor,  and  retired  a  perfect  penitent.  Whether  the 
amendment  lasted,  I  am  not  aware,  but  it  is  certain  that  for  a 
time  this  lesson  had  its  effect  upon  him,  and  he  was  never  un- 
deceived. This  was  as  fine  a  piece  of  my  husband's  acting  as 
ever  the  public  witnessed,  and  I  regretted  that  it  was  confined  to 

so  small  an  audience.     Poor went  from  London  soon  after, 

and  we  lost  sight  of  him ;  but  I  have  often  reflected  with  confi- 
dence that  this  kindly-intentioned  act  of  my  husband  might  have 
saved  him  from  destruction. 

On  the  morning  of  the  13th  of  September,  Mr.  Walter  Scott 
called  in  Lisle-street,  to  invite  Mr.  Mathews  to  an  early  dinner 
with  him,  to  meet  Lord  Byron,  at  Long's  Hotel.  My  husband 
had  left  home  early  on  business  previously  to  a  journey  he  was 
about  to  make,  and  I  told  Mr.  Scott  that  he  was  on  the  point  of 
setting  off  that  afternoon  for  Warwickshire,  and  that  his  place 
in  the  coach  was  taken.  Mr.  Scott  expressed  his  vexation  on  a 
double  account,  first,  that  he  could  not  see  Mr.  Mathews  at 
dinner ;  next,  that  he  had  not  been  earlier  aware  of  his  intended 
journey,  for  that  he  had  long  wished  to  visit  Kenilworth,  and 
should  have  felt  additional  pleasure  in  doing  so  in  his  company. 
Mr.  Scott  asked  me  whether  I  thought  my  husband  would  for- 
feit his  place  in  the  coach,  on  condition  that  he  left  town  with 
him  in  the  evening,  to  post  into  Warwickshire.  I  ventured  to 
promise  that  he  would,  and  after  turning  over  a  portfolio  of 


190  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

engravings,  and  chatting  over  them  for  about  half  an  hour,  the 
charming  man  reminded  me  of  his  expectation  of  seeing  my 
husband  at  the  appointed  dinner-hour,  which,  for  some  reason  I 
now  forget,  was,  I  think,  three  o'clock.  Just  as  Mr.  Scott  pre- 
pared to  take  his  leave,  I  observed  that  it  was  pouring  with  rain, 
and  that  it  was  impossible  he  could  go  away  without  a  coach. 
He  smiled,  and  refused  my  offer  of  sending  for  one.  I  then 
pressed  him  to  take  an  umbrella ;  but  he  declared  he  never  con- 
sidered any  sort  of  weather  an  impediment  to  his  moving  about 
free  from  incumbrance  of  any  kind.  He  was  dressed  oddly  enough 
for  London,  in  a  dark  green  coatee,  single-breasted,  and  fashioned, 
I  thought,  something  like  a  Squire's  hunting-jacket.  His 
nether  garments  were  drab-coloured,  with  continuations  down  to 
his  shoes.  Without  further  delay  he  departed,  in  the  midst  of 
what  appeared  to  me  little  less  than  a  torrent  of  rain,  through 
which,  leaning  on  a  stout  stick,  he  leisurely  walked.  As  I  stood 
at  the  window  gazing  after  him  as  he  proceeded  down  Leicester- 
place,  he  looked  back  with  one  of  his  fascinating  smiles,  and  with 
a  playful  nod  of  his  head,  as  if  to  reassure  me  that  he  was  doing 
what  was  agreeable  to  him.  I  thought  of  the  "  Scotch  mist," 
and  tried  to  reconcile  myself  to  the  complete  wetting  which  this 
pattern-Scott  must  have  received  long  before  he  reached  Bond- 
street. 

When  my  husband  returned,  I  need  not  say  that  he  was 
charmed  with  the  arrangement  I  had  made  for  him.  He  had 
never  seen  Lord  Byron,  and  the  combined  delight  of  meeting 
him  in  company  with  another  great  and  remarkable  man  was 
such  as,  in  hackneyed  phrase,  may  be  "  better  conceived  than 
described."  At  a  little  before  three  o'clock,  my  husband  took 
leave  of  me,  proceeded  to  Long's,  and  after  dinner  started  thence, 
with  Mr.  Walter  Scott,  and,  I  think,  a  nephew  of  his,  also  a 
Mr.  Scott.  On  the  third  morning  I  received  the  following 
hurried  despatch  reporting  progress — 

To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Friday  Morning,  10  o'clock,  Sept.  15th,  1815. 
I  am  now  breakfasting  at  Stony  Stratford.  The  man  on  the  great 
horse  arrived  about  six  months  back,  after  a  tedious  journey.  I  write 
to  remind  you  to  go  to  Covent  Garden  treasury  for  my  salary,  or  they 
will  forget  to  pay  me,  as  of  course  I  don't  receive  any  alter  I  quit. 
Delightful  journey— Scott  delicious.  Introduced  yesterday  to  Lord 
Byron  at  dinner — handsomest  man  I  ever  saw.  Send  the  enclosed  slip 
to  Poole,  directed  to  36,  Norfolk-street.    God  bless  you. 

C.  Mathews. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  19] 

The  allusion  to  the  "  Man  on  the  Grreat  Horse,"  refers  to  an 
incident  half  serious,  half  comic,  which  some  years  before  oc- 
curred to  us  in  one  of  our  midnight  drives  to  the  cottage  already 
mentioned,  at  Colney-Hatch.  As  we  slowly  ascended  Highgate 
Hill,  a  man  upon  one  of  the  largest  horses  ever  seen  since  the 
"  Bishop's  breed,"  intercepted  our  progress,  with  an  evident  in- 
tention of  robbing  us.  He  surveyed  my  husband  as  if  mea- 
suring the  probable  chances  of  repulse  and  defence.  Upon  Mr. 
Mathews  demanding  his  business,  the  man  continued  to  look 
curiously  into  the  headed  chaise  in  which  we  were  seated,  with 
an  intention,  as  we  supposed,  first  to  ascertain  whether  there  was 
anything  like  fire-arms,  next,  whether  he  had  more  than  one 
man  to  contend  with.  At  this  moment  Mr.  Decamp,  who  lived 
on  Finchley  Common,  overtook  us,  and  seeing  the  design  of  the 
stranger,  called  out,  "  Mathews,  I've  pistols,  if  you  have  not !" 
upon  hearing  which,  the  man  on  the  "  great  horse"  removed  his 
position  from  our  horse's  head,  and  falteringly  inquired,  "  Pray, 
gentlemen,  is  this  the  road  to  Ston}'-  Stratford  ?"  This  question 
caused  a  simultaneous  laugh  from  the  parties  questioned ;  and 
the  traveller  was  left  to  glean  his  information  from  the  next 
sign-post  on  his  road. 

Of  the  dinner  at  Long's  my  husband  ever  after  spoke  with 
delight.  Lord  Byron  was  most  fascinating;  and  this  last 
meeting  (as  it  proved)  between  these  two  splendid  men,  to  which 
he  was  thus  admitted,  was  always  a  subject  of  deep  though 
melancholy  gratification  to  him. 

With  regard  to  Lord  Byron's  features,  Mr.  Mathews  observed, 
that  he  was  the  only  man  he  ever  contemplated,  to  whom  he 
felt  disposed  to  apply  the  word  beautiful. 

In  his  Lordship's  letters  to  Mr.  Moore  from  Italy,  this  party 
is  mentioned;  and  Sir  Walter  Scott  has  also  left  a  record, in  his 
own  writing,  of  this  remarkable  day,  in  the  following  form — 

I  saw  Bjron  for  the  last  time  in  1815,  after  I  returned  from  France. 
He  dined  or  lunched  with  me  at  Long's,  in  Bond-street.  I  never  saw 
him  so  full  of  gaiety  and  good  humour ;  to  which  the  presence  of  Mr. 
Mathews,  the  comedian,  added  not  a  little.* 

Upon  which  Mr.  Lockhart  remarks — 

"  The  only  survivor  (Mr.  Scott)  of  the  party,  has  recorded  it  in  his 
note-book  as  the  most  interesting  day  he  ever  spent." 

*  See  "The  Scotsman,"  1830;  and  recently,  Mr.  Lockhart's  interesting 
life  of  his  illustrious  father-in-law. 


192  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Northampton,  Tuesday,  Sept.  19th,  1815. 

I  arrived  safe  and  well  at  Leamington,  on  Friday,  and  when  I  saw 
the  handful  of  houses  that  compose  the  town,  I  felt  that  Mr.  Ling  had 
hoaxed  me,  and  much  did  I  repent  that  I  was  advertised, — the  antici- 
pation was  horrid ;  and  no  musician  could  I  get  far  or  near  till  seven 
o'clock,  when  one  wretched  country-dance  fiddler  arrived  from  a  distance 
of  fiive  miles.  I  soon  found  that  he  could  not  play  a  note.  I  began 
my  performance  with  an  apology,  stating  that  I  had  written  forward  to 
request  that  all  the  musicians  in  the  town  might  be  engaged,  and  that 
request  had  been  complied  with.  "Ladies  and  gentlemen,"  said  I, 
"strictly  all  that  are  to  be  found  are  now  in  the  orchestra;  he  is  all. 
I  hope,  however,  that  the  defects  of  the  singer  may  be  compensated  by 
the  ability  of  the  musician,  and  vice  versa  ;  and  if  the  kindness  of  the 
audience  will  but  keep  pace  with  our  anxiety  to  please,  my  friend  and 
I  cannot  fail  of  success."  This  produced  a  great  laugh,  and  when  we 
came  to  the  first  song,  he  in  vain  attempted  to  scratch  a  note  or  two, 
and  he  literally  was  not  heard  during  the  whole  evening,  except 
between  the  two  acts,  when,  to  rescue  his  fame,  he  boldly  struck  up  a 
country-dance,  which  he  rasped  away  to  the  no  small  amusement  of  the 
audience. 

I  had  all  the  visitors,  I  believe,  in  the  place ;  and,  to  my  amazement, 
they  produced  me  271.  We*  had  the  next  day  a  most  delightful  treat, 
going  all  over  Warwick  Castle  with  Walter  Scott.  There,  by  accident, 
I  met  Mr.  Hall,  whom  you  may  recollect  at  Perry's  and  Hill's,  who 
was  overjoyed  at  the  luck  of  being  introduced  to  Scotland's  bard.  He 
also  was  journeying  northward.  We  went  on  to  the  celebrated  ruins  of 
Kenilworth,  where  we  all  dined;  and  I  returned  to  Leamington.  Mr. 
Hall  took  the  third  of  a  chaise  with  Simpson  and  myself  on  towards 
Derby,  highly  delighted  at  meeting  with  such  post-chaise  companions. 
On  Sunday  we  had  a  charming  journey  of  thirty  miles  to  this  place.  I 
last  night  played  Suskin,  Cypher ^  and  Somno ;  the  house  crammed, 
holds  fifty,  and  we  had  fifty-six  and  a  clear  half,  and  expect  as  good  to- 
night. At  present,  therefore,  all  is  propitious  ;  and  it  had  need  to  be, 
for  the  misery  I  endured  at  rehearsal  yesterday,  and  last  night — oh  ! 
such  pumps.  To-night  I  do  the  Entertainment — such  velvet  after 
acting  with  them  !     To-morrow,  Coventry. 

C.  Mathews. 

On  my  husband's  return  home  he  described  to  me  and  others 
the  effect  Kenilworth  produced  upon  Mr.  Walter  Scott,  whose 
deHght  and  enthusiasm  led  him  to  make  several  remarkable  ob- 
servations while  surveying  these  splendid  ruins,  all  which  were 
indelibly  impressed  upon  Mr.  Mathews's  memory ;  and  if  any 
evidence  was  then  necessary  to  prove  who  the  Great  Unknown 
was,  the  fact  of  those  very  phrases,  and  the  precise  quotations 

*  Hipiself  and  a  friend,  who  acted  at  the  time  as  his  travelling  assistant. 


I 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  193~ 

appearing  in  the  Romance  when  it  was  published,  was  enough 
to  settle  the  point  with  those  to  whom  they  had  been  repeated. 

But  besides  this  an  accidental  disclosure  had  taken  place  at 
our  own  table,  which  established  indisputably  the  fact  of  Mr. 
Scott  being  the  author  of  the  novels ;  but  of  which  we  were 
bound  in  honour,  although  not  by  any  compact,  to  conceal  our 
knowledge  for  some  time. 

One  day,  Messrs.  John  Ballantyne,  Constable,  and  Terry,  were 
dining  with  us,  and  during  the  dinner  the  Waverley  novels  had 
been  the  theme  of  conversation.  Mr.  John  Ballantyne  had  an 
indiscreet  vivacity  sometimes,  and  moreover  at  this  period  felt  a 
more  than  ordinary  exhilaration  from  the  "  generous"  and  truth- 
telling  wine,  which  prompted  him  to  say,  at  the  close  of  a  speech 
he  had  made  about  some  books  for  which  I  asked  him,  "  I  shall 
soon  send  you  Scott's  new  novel !"  I  shall  never  forget  the 
consternation  of  the  Messrs.  Constable  and  Terry,  and,  indeed, 
we  were  as  much  embarrassed.  Mr.  Constable  looked  daggers 
— and  Terry  used  some — for  with  a  stern  brow  and  a  correcting 
tone,  he  cried  out  "  John  !"  adding  with  a  growl,  resembling  what 
is  generally  made  to  check  or  reprove  a  mischievous  dog, — 
"Ah  !  what  are  you  about  ?"  which  made  us  drop  our  eyes  in 
pain  for  the  indiscreet  tattler ;  while  Wee  Johnny  looked  like 
an  impersonation  of  Fear, — startled  "  at  the  sound  himself  had 
made."  Not  another  word  was  said;  but  our  little  good- 
natured  friend's  lapse  was  sacred  with  us,  and  the  secret  was 
never  divulged  while  it  was  important  to  preserve  it. 

To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Stone,  Staffordshire,  Sept.  25tli,  1815. 
We  have  just  arrived,  after  a  delightful  drive  from  Birmingham, 
forty  miles,  on  our  road  to  Manchester,  where  I  am  to  give  my  En- 
tertainments on  Monday  night.  Our  mode  of  travelling  is  most  de- 
lightful; and  we  have  not  had  one  shower  since  we  started  from 
London.  I  have  fagged  very  hard  :  have  played  already  six  nights, 
and  shall  play  again  six  nights  next  week.  Was  on  the  stage  at 
Northampton  at  half  past-eleven  o'clock  on  Tuesday ;  up  at  half-past 
five,  Wednesday ;  went  thirty-five  miles  to  Coventry,  and  played  that 
night.  Found  on  my  arrival  a  hall  empty ;  not  a  seat,  not  a  chandelier 
— no  musicians — no  nothing ;  and  at  a  quarter  before  five  I  had  not  a 
prospect  of  being  able  to  open.  I  went  through  every  street  of  Coventry 
— to  the  mayor,  to  an  alderman  (for  "  Crazy"*  was  not  to  be  found) — 
to  carpenters,  fiddlers;   but,  however,   I  mean  to  publish  a  small 

*  The  name  of  a  superannuated  member  of  the  corporation,  in  O'Keefe's  farce 
of  "Peeping  Tom."  ^ 

O 


194  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

pamphlet  with  "  More  Miseries ;"  and  that  day's  adventures  will  beat 
Beresford  and  Carr  hollow.  You  can  have  no  notion  of  my  temper,  my 
coolness,  my  perseverance  ;  Simpson  was  astonished — hobbler  as  I  am, 
I  knocked  him  up :  he  could  not  follow  me.  At  half-past  seven  I  had 
a  very  elegant  audience,  all  seated  on  about  thirty  long  forms,  dragged 
from  a  church;  sixty  candles  in  two  chandeliers,  dragged  from  the 
town-hall,  a  raised  stage,  branches,  three  music-stands,  and  three  bad 
fiddlers,  who  could  not  play  "God  save  the  King"  between  them.*  It 
was  magic ;  and  all  went  off  well.  Lots  of  "  more  miseries"  on  my 
arrival  at  Birmingham.  EUiston,  who  left  me  on  Thursday  to  go  down, 
acted  at  Covent-garden  on  Friday,  and  only  arrived  yesterday.  Such 
confusion,  such  madness,  such  misery ;  I  was  outrageous  at  him ;  but 
here  again  we  got  through.  I  concluded  last  night  in  "  The  Sleep 
Walker,"  with  three  cheers,  and  the  little  merry  rascal  supped  with. 
me,  and  my  anger  vanished.  Would  you  believe  it,  I  was  not  adver- 
tised till  Wednesday,  at  ten  o'clock,  to  perform  that  night.  My  tour  is 
now  regularly  arranged.  Wednesday,  Sheffield;  Thursday,  Derby; 
Friday  and  Saturday,  Leicester,  with  Macready ;  Sunda}'-,  I  start  for 
home.  Pray,  write  me  a  letter  by  return.  Direct  it — Mr.  Drewry, 
Printer,  Derby.  Don't  fail,  for  it  is  a  great  delight  to  see  your  hand- 
writing outside  a  letter,  when  I  am  full  of  puckers.  God  bless  you  and 
my  dear  boy  !  I  am  full  of  rude  health  and  in  excellent  spirits.  I  am 
improved  a  month  in  my  lameness  since  I  left  you,  and  always  turn  my 
toe  in  when  I  think  of  you,  which  I  assure  you  is  very,  very  often. 
Adieu ! 


C.  Mathews. 


Epitaphs  found  to-day  at  Pankridge : 

Here  lies  a  virgin  pure, 
Eat  up  with  grief  and  fleas, 
Unto  a  place  of  rest, 
For  her  relief. 

{Literatim  et  verbatim.) 


A  mild  and  dutiful  son  his  here, 
Likewise  2  tender  infants  dear  ; 
So  loving  and  obedient  were 
The  children  who  lies  reposing  here. 


To  Mrs.  MatJiews. 

Ashborn,  Derbyshire,  Sept.  29th,  1815. 
Here  we  are,  after  a  most  delicious  journe}'',  through  a  most  fertile 
and  romantic  country,  from  Manchester  through  Buxton,  to  this  place; 
forty-four  miles  from  the  former,  which  we  left  this  morning  at  seven. 

^  *  In  other  words,  the  simplest  air. 


CHAKLES  MATHEWS.  195 

I  have  one  unexpected  non-play  nic^ht,  which  is  almost  the  only  chance 
I  have  of  snatching  an  hour  to  tell  you  of  my  progress.  I  hope  you 
will  do  me  the  justice  to  believe  that  I  am  never  disposed  to  neglect  an 
opportunity  of  writing  to  you.  The  fag  I  have  had  on  this  expedition 
is  not  to  be  imagined.  However,  I  am  still,  like  Wilson  the  pedestrian, 
in  excellent  strength,  and  confident  of  completing  my  undertaking.  On 
my  return,  I  can  say  that  I  have  played  eleven  nights,  and  travelled 
nearly  five  hundred  miles,  in  a  fortnight.  You  and  I  agreed,  you  will 
remember,  that  200Z.  (considering  the  hurry  and  want  of  organization 
of  my  scheme),  would  be  a  good  sum  to  bring  home,  remembering  the 
extra  expense  of  Simpson's  journeys  to  and  from  Northampton,  my 
posting  to  Leamington,  &c.  Up  to  this  morning,  putting  all  down,  I 
clear  225/. !  and  have  yet  Derby  to-morrow,  and  two  nights  at  Lei- 
cester (but  there  I  only  share  with  Macready) ;  so  I  think  that  I  have 
done  nobly. 

The  weather,  which  has  been  so  propitious  during  our  travelling  here, 
was  most  unfortunate  for  my  benefit  night  at  Birmingham,  and 
Manchester  last  night,  raining  torrents.  Last  night  it  hurt  me  much. 
I  could  not  resist  relating  to  you  what  I  consider,  under  all  circum- 
stances, "  Prodigious  !"  I  direct  this  to  town,  to  request  that  you  will 
write,  to  inform  me  of  the  play  on  Monday,  and  if  they  act  on  Tuesday, 
and  what.  If  I  play  on  Monday,  I  can  be  there  easily  in  time ;  but 
would  prefer,  for  the  horse's  sake,  to  reach  town  on  Tuesday  morning ; 
however,  as  my  furlough  expires  on  Saturday,  I  must  expect  to  act  on 
Monday. 

Chables  Mathews. 
Mrs.  Mathews,  Lisle-street,  Leicester-square. 

In  November,  another  command  from  her  Majesty,  to  perform 
to  her  at  Windsor  Castle,  most  graciously  worded,  reached  Mr. 
Mathews,  who  again  was  unable  to  attend  the  summons,  made 
through  Lieutenant-Colonel  Stephenson. 


o2 


196  THE  LIFE  AND   COERESPONDENCE  OF 


CHAPTEE  XX. 

Mr.  Mathews  at  the  Haymarket  Theatre — Unnecessary  offers  of  assistance — 
Letter  to  Mrs.  Mathews  from  Worthing  —  Unintentional  compliment  — 
Methodistical  playgoers— Visit  to  France  by  Mr.  Mathews  and  Mr.  Yates — 
Mr.  Mathews's  engagement  with  Mr.  Arnold — His  visit  to  Paris  with  that 
gentleman — Letter  to  Mrs.  Mathews  from  Paris — Tiercelin,  Brunet,  and 
Potier — Invitation  to  Mr.  Mathews's  "At  Home" — Programme  of  the 
entertainment — Mr.  Mathews's  introductory  address — Extraordinary  success 
of  the  speculation — Mr.  Mathews's  sudden  illness — Mr.  Arnold  and  his 
bond — Amelioration  of  the  agreement — Disti'essing  malady. 

On  the  17th  of  June,  1817,  Mr.  Mathews's  dramatic  idol,  John 
Kemble,  took  his  leave  of  the  public.  It  was  an  affecting 
evening,  although  in  a  great  measure  gratifying  to  his  friends 
and  admirers.  After  the  curtain  dropped  upon  his  last  bow,  a 
relic  of  this  great  ornament  to  his  profession  was  eagerly  sought 
by  all  who  crowded  round  the  "  last  of  all  the  Eomans."  He 
presented  the  sandals  he  had  worn  that  night  in  Coriolanus,  to 
my  husband,  who  exclaimed,  as  he  bore  away  his  prize,  "  I  may 
wear  his  sandals,  but  no  one  will  ever  stand  in  his  shoes.'' 

On  the  27th  a  public  farewell-dinner  was  given  to  Mr.  Kemble. 
Lord  Holland  took  the  head  of  the  table,  and  on  his  right  hand 
sat  the  object  of  the  meeting  ;  on  his  left  the  Duke  of  Bedford. 
Messrs.  Young,  C.  Kemble,  and  Mathews,  presided  at  the  other 
tables.  After  the  presentation  of  a  splendid  vase,  prepared  by 
some  of  his  admirers,  an  ode  was  recited  by  Mr.  Young,  from 
the  pen  of  Campbell,  the  Bard  of  Hope.  Lord  Holland  then 
proposed  "  the  health  of  Mr.  Mathews  (at  the  same  time  pro- 
claiming him  to  have  been  the  suggester  as  well  as  promoter  of 
the  compliment  to  Mr.  Kemble),  and  the  Committee,"  which 
distinction  was  acknowledged  by  Mr.  Mathews  in  an  appropriate 
speech. 

The  Haymarket  season,  which  commenced  this  year  on  the 
7th  of  July,  brought  Mr.  Mathews  once  more  before  a  summer 
audience  in  London,  after  an  absence  of  two  years.  He  made 
his  appearance  in  Scout^  in  "  The  Village  Lawyer,"  one  of  those 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  197 

unique  performances  not  to  be  described,  and  the  enthusiasm 
with  which  he  was  hailed  is  equally  indescribable. 

It  seems  strange,  that  whenever  an  individual  attempt  is 
successfully  made,  a  general  desire  should  be  created  to  imitate 
the  plan,  whether  with  or  without  ability  or  means.  What  is 
still  more  strange,  however,  is,  that  when  it  is  clearly  manifest 
that  individuality  has  constituted  the  pith  and  charm  of  the 
enterprise,  people  not  without  judgment  in  other  respects,  should 
propose  to  nullify  this  success  by  offering  their  co-operation, 
forgetting  that  it  is  the  very  popularity  of  the  plan,  the  basis 
of  which  they  would  thus  infallibly  upset,  which  has  induced  them 
to  make  this  offer. 

As  soon  as  Mr.  Mathews  proved  his  singular  power  in  his  "  At 
Homes,*'  and  that  he  could  attract  overflowing  audiences,  with- 
out any  personal  assistance,  he  was  assailed  by.  proposals  of  all 
sorts,  from  all  sorts  of  people,  to  be  admitted  into  his  entertain- 
ment. When  he  was  performing  in  Dublin  to  crowded  houses, 
a  conjuror,  then  exhibiting  there  to  almost  empty  benches, 
wrote  to  him,  absurdly  offering  him  his  "  services,"  upon  the 
consideration  of  receiving  an  "  equal  share  of  Mr.  Mathews's 
profits." 

All  such  proposals,  of  course,  were  declined,  but  not  in  a 
solitary  instance  without  giving  great  offence  to  the  applicants. 

At  the  close  of  the  Haymarket  season,  Mr.  Mathews  re- 
sumed his  provincial  pursuits  and  his  correspondence  with 
myself. 

To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Worthing,  October  1st,  1817. 

I  am  just  arrived  here,  and  shall  stay  till  Sunday.  My  benefit  last 
night  produced  105Z.  making  my  profits  since  last  Wednesday,  140Z. ; 
so  I  have  got  beyond  the  right  reading.  This  is  40Z.  beyond  my  most 
sanguine  guess. 

I  must  tell  you  a  "  little  anecdote,"  which  is  the  greatest  compliment 
that  I  ever  received.  During  my  performance  at  Brighton,  Mrs. 
George  Farren's  mother  and  sister  went  to  see  me  "  At  Home ;"  the 
former  was  so  disgusted  at  my  "  imposition  on  the  public,"  that  she 
actually  lett  the  house  at  the  end  of  the  ventriloquy,  and  dragged  her 
daughter  with  her.  She  said  it  ought  to  be  exposed  in  the  public 
papers,  for  that  she  saw  the  man  under  the  stage  give  me  up  the  wine, 
— and  that  people  could  be  such  fools  as  to  believe  I  spoke  for  that 
child,  and  the  old  man,  so  provoked  her,  that  she  would  not  stay  to  be 
one  of  them. 

I  patronise  your  plan  with  Charles.  Tell  him  that  I  am  fagging  at 
French  myself  now. 

C.  Mathews. 


198  THE  LIFE  AND  CORKESPONDENCE  OF 

Southampton,  October  11  tb,  1817. 

The  whole  of  yesterday  I  was  absent  on  a  trip  to  the  Isle  of  Wight, 
and  most  delightful  it  was.  An  old  friend,  a  Mr.  Lynn,  took  me  over 
in  his  yacht;  we  returned  and  dined  aboard,  and  got  home  in  the 
evening. 

I  have  received  great  attention  here.  Mrs.  Siddons's  friend,  Mrs. 
ritzhugh,  called  on  me.  One  morning,  to  my  great  amazement,  I  saw 
a  procession  of  about  eight  persons  enter  my  drawing-room,  my  bed- 
room door  being  open ;  and  when  I  entered,  I  perceived  Mr.  Cooke  the 
Methodist  clergyman,  and  family,  and  other  regular  bred  Methodists  of 
the  town.     Think  of  that ! 

C.  Mathews. 

Mr.  Cooke  was  one  of  those  well-educated  and  liberal  Christians 
who  recommend  religion  by  their  own  example  ;  too  sincere  in 
himself  to  suppose  it  necessary  to  be  always  talking  goodness 
to  others,  and  too  well-bred  and  feeling  to  insult  those  he  might 
find  less  excellent  than  himself.  Several  like  him,  whom  T  used 
to  meet  in  my  husband's  family,  were  alone  sufficient  to  redeem 
a  whole  conventicle  of  Maw  worms.  I  well  remember  a  North- 
amptonshire preacher  who  always  came  up  to  London  when 
Mrs.  Siddons  and  John  Kemble  performed,  for  the  pleasure  of 
hearing  them.  He  admitted  to  me,  that  this  was  unknown  to 
his  connexion,  but  he  saw  no  impropriety  in  such  a  gratification  ; 
still,  he  had  no  right,  he  said,  to  shock  the  prejudices  of  his  sect 
by  thus  proclaiming  his  opinion  of  their  narrowness  of  mind. 
On  the  occasions  of  the  "At  Homes,"  however,  many  of  Mr. 
Mathews's  family  connexions  were  followers  of  his  "  Lectures," 
and  did  not  hesitate  to  acquaint  themselves  with  the  inside  of  a 
theatre  to  hear  their  old  friend's  son  "  hold  forth,"  to  whom  it 
would  otherwise  have  been  unknown  :  these  were  always  observed 
to  be  amongst  the  most  delighted  of  the  audience. 

Pursuant   to  an   arrangement  made  with  Mr.  Yates,*  Mr. 

•  *  Frederic  Henry  Yates,  comedian,  born  in  London  1797,  educated  at 
Charter-house,  and  intended  for  the  army.  Entered  the  Commissariat,  and 
was  engaged  during  the  last  years  of  the  Peninsular  War.  Tired  of  inactivity, 
after  the  battle  of  Waterloo  be  embraced  the  dramatic  profession,  for  which  he 
had  always  evinced  a  strong  predilection.  He  acted  for  some  time,  both  at 
Drury-Iane  and  Covent-garden,  but  it  was  not  until  he  became  part  proprietor 
and  manager  of  the  Adelphi  that  his  talents  were  fully  appreciated.  Under 
his  regime,  this  little  theatre  established  a  specialite  for  melodramas  and 
farces  which  rendered  it  one  of  the  most  favourite  resorts  of  the  day.  His 
exertions  were  ably  seconded  by  his  wife,  the  daughter  of  Mr.  Brunton,  a 
well-known  provincial  manager  and  actor.  Mr.  Yates  died  in  June,  1842, 
from  the  bursting  of  a  bloodvessel  in  the  chest,  caused  by  over -exertion,  at 
the  early  age  of  forty-five. 


CHAKLES   MATHEWS.  199 

Mathews  visited  France,  for  the  first  time,  towards  the  close  of 
this  year.  The  plan  was,  to  perform  the  "  Actor  of  all  Work," 
wherever  the  English  were  deemed  numerous  enough  to  make 
up  an  audience  commensurate  with  his  views.  Mr.  Yates  was 
to  perform  "the  manager,"  not  only  in  the  above  piece,  but  in  all 
things  else  where  Mr.  Mathews  found  himself  in  want  of  an 
assistant. 

Mr.  Yates  was  at  this  time  young  upon  the  stage,  but  gave 
promise  of  the  superior  talents  he  has  since  matured.  He  was 
a  most  agreeable  companion,  and  a  great  favourite  with  Mr. 
Mathews,  while  his  acquahitance  with  French  customs,  and 
English  officers  stationed  abroad — from  his  knowledge  of  them 
while  a  youth  in  the  commissariat  department — rendered  him 
a  more  than  commonly  desirable  fellow-traveller  on  such  an 
expedition. 

On  their  return  to  England,  Mr.  Mathews  separated  from  Mr. 
Y''ates,  professionally,  as  will  be  seen  by  his  letters  descriptive  of 
his  visit  to  Scotland,  where  Mr.  Yates  was,  I  believe,  engaged  as 
a  tragedian. 

To  Mr.  Arnold  of  the  Lyceum  Theatre  belonged  the  judg- 
ment to  perceive  the  advantage  to  be  derived  from  the  individual 
exertions  of  Mr.  Mathews.  Mr.  Arnold's  discrimination  and 
shrewdness  led  to  the  conclusion,  which  Mr.  Mathews  had  never 
calculated  upon  to  any  such  extent ;  indeed,  he  was  ill  at  calcu- 
lation in  any  shape.  Mr.  Arnold  had,  in  fact,  prudently  laid  by 
for  the  time,  which  he  saw  approaching,  from  my  husband's  evi- 
dent dissatisfaction  with  the  winter  theatres ;  and  when  it  came, 
promptly  offered  him  a  remedy  for  present  discontent,  and  a 
security  from  similar  mortification  in  future.  Briefly,  Mr.  Arnold 
proposed  to  buy  up  for  a  term  of  years  Mr.  Mathews's  talents, 
and  to  become  sole  master  and  comptroller  of  them ;  to  take  all 
chances  and  risks ;  and,  what  was  most  tempting  to  my  hus- 
band, all  the  trouble  !  Strange  to  say,  Mr.  Mathews  thought 
he  could  be  satisfied  and  happy  under  such  a  servitude.  But 
he  had  a  bad  head  for  business  :  and  Mr.  Arnold  enjoined  secrecy; 
even  I  was  not  to  be  admitted  into  their  conferences ;  and  all 
was  listened  to  on  the  one  side  without  any  clear  understanding 
of  his  obhgations.  The  income,  and  the  employment  of  his 
powers,  were  all,  as  it  afterwards  proved,  that  Mr.  Mathews  re- 
tained of  the  conditions.  He  was  disgusted  with  his  late  posi-» 
tion,  and,  what  he  could  not  but  feel,  the  injustice  of' the  winter 
managers.  He  panted^'for  freedom,  fancied  it  was  now  offered  to 
him,  and  heedlessly  rushed  into  tenfold  captivity. 


200  THE  LIFE  AND   COKRESPONDENCE  OF 

When  too  late  for  objection  or  interference,  I  was  told  what 
he  had  done  :  sold  himself  for  the  most  valuable  part  of  his  public 
life  to  a  person  who  originally,  by  his  objectionable  management 
of  the  Lyceum  in  1810  (as  Mr.  Mathews  conceived  it),  drove 
him  from  London ;  but,  under  his  present  excitement  against 
others,  all  this  had  been  overlooked  or  forgotten.  Reproaches 
on  my  part  would  have  been  as  useless  as  kind  ;  the  arrangement 
was  made,  and,  as  far  as  honour  was  concerned,  past  recall ;  he 
had  pledged  his  word  to  Mr.  Arnold.  A  trivial  circumstance 
recurred  to  me,  and  was  now  explained,  which  at  the  time  caused 
me  a  slight  surprise  and  some  offence.  It  was*  on  the  first  ap- 
pointment (as  it  afterwards  appeared)  made  by  the  parties.  I 
had  engaged,  by  my  husband's  wish,  to  accompany  some  friends 
to  a  concert :  he  refused  to  go ;  the  carriage  was  late,  and  Mr. 
Arnold  was  punctual.  I  wondered  at  his  call  at  such  an  hour, 
especially  as  no  intimacy  subsisted.  He  fixed  his  eyes  upon  the 
lights  in  the  room  for  a  moment,  and  taking  a  pinch  of  snuff,  as 
if  out  of  humour,  asked,  or  rather  exclaimed,  in  a  sharp  tone, 
"  What !  do  you  burn  wax  candles  ? — a  great  extravagance  !" 
I  started  at  the  liberty  I  conceived  he  took,  without  answering 
him.  "  A  feather  will  show  which  way  the  wind  blows."  Our 
future  master  was  calculating,  that  with  the  reductions  his  plan 
would  require  in  our  mode  of  living,  it  would  be  necessary  to 
give  up  all  refinements. 

As  soon  as  I  was  assured  that  the  matter  was  irrevocably 
determined  upon,  and  that  my  husband's  time,  previously  to  the 
arrangement  coming  into  action,  was  to  be  spent  in  a  tour,  I 
persuaded  him  to  let  me  begin  our  contracted  system  at  once,  to 
give  up  our  little  carriage  and  servants,  and  allow  me  to  take  a 
small  furnished  cottage  near  my  boy's  school,  at  least  till  the 
result  of  Mr.  Arnold's  experiment  was  ascertained,  which  was 
to  take  place  in  the  spring  of  the  next  year.  In  agreement  with 
this  proposal,  I  removed  from  Lisle-street  to  the  Clapham-road 
cottage.  Having  settled  all  preliminaries  for  commencing  the 
new  scheme,  Mr.  Arnold  and  my  husband  made  a  short  visit  to 
Paris,  where  Mr.  Mathews  had  never  been. 

To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Paris,  March  12tli,  1818. 
I  arrived  here  safely  yesterday,  and  as  soon  as  we  had  dined,  went 
with  Poole,  who  found  us  out  within  an  hour  of  our  arrival,  to  the 
Theatre  des  Varietes,  where  I  saw  three  of  the  finest  actors  I  have  ever 
beheld,  Tiercelin,  Brunet,  and  Potier. 

To-day  we  have  been  walking  about  to  see  the  palaces  and  principal 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  201 

public  buildings.  You  have  heard  so  much  from  various  visitors,  who 
are  naturally  lull  of  communication  upon  these  topics,  that  it  is  not 
possible  I  can  say  anything  new.  I  am  lost  in  wonder.  The  Tuileries' 
palace  and  gardens,  and  all  the  better  parts  of  this  most  magnificent 
city,  far  exceed  my  most  sanguine  expectation ;  the  immense  popula- 
tion, and  the  extraordinary  "  gigs"  that  are  to  be  encountered  at  every 
corner,  keep  both  eyes  in  a  constant  rotatory  motion,  and  all  the  risible 
faculties  in  unceasing  exertion.  The  most  public  walks,  particularly 
those  of  the  Palais  Royal,  being  a  mixture  of  Exeter  Change  and  Vaux- 
hall  Gardens  on  a  gala  night,  present  such  a  ridiculous  mixture  of 
character  and  costume,  that  you  cannot  divest  3'^our  mind  of  the  idea 
that  they  are  walking  in  masquerade  dresses.  I  have  seen  one  hundred 
men  to-day  exactly  like  the  mask  Liston  wore  at  Charles  Kemble's ; 
and  the  coal-scuttle  Grimaldi  wore  in  the  pantomime  is  no  caricature  of 
the  women's  head-dresses.  We  saw  Gavaudan,  whom  Poole  described 
as  a  most  enchanting  comic  actress.  One  scene  excelled  anything  I 
have  seen  in  England,  as  far  as  Covent  Garden  excels  Drury-lane. 
Potier  convulsed  me  with  laughter ;  his  face  is  a  very  comic  consump- 
tive likeness  of  Young  in  "  The  Stranger ;"  and  he  played  Werter  in 
burlesque. 

Arnold  and  I  had  a  dinner  to-day  of  three  dishes — a  bottle  of  claret, 
and  another  of  burgundy ;  and  our  bill  was  8*.  '2id.  English. 

C.  Mathews. 

P.S. — I  dine  to-day  at  Talma's. 

Toward  the  end  of  March  the  following  simple  announce- 
ment heralded  Mr.  Mathews's  first  attempt  to  face  the  town 
single-handed. 

The  public  are  respectfully  informed  that  Mr.  Mathews  will  be  "  At 
Home,"  at  the  Theatre  Royal  English  Opera  House,  on  the  2nd,  4th, 
6th,  7th,  9th,  and  11th  of  April.  Particulars  of  the  Entertainments 
to  which  the  Public  are  invited  will  be  duly  announced. 

The  title  given  to  this  "invitation"  was  a  most  felicitous  one 
as  it  turned  out,  but  was  undoubtedly  open  to  many  critical 
taunts,  had  the  entertainment  happened  to  be  less  fortunate. 
The  public  expectation  was  strongly  excited;  the  house  was 
filled  at  an  early  hour ;  and  the  following  bill,  delivered  at  the 
entrance,  was  eagerly  perused  during  the  overture,  performed  by 
one  musician  on  a  pianoforte  placed  on  one  side  of  the  stage. 
The  preparations  that  met  the  eye  of  the  expectants  were  simply 
a  drawing-room  scene,  a  small  table  covered  with  a  green  cloth, 
a  chair  behind  it,  and  a  lamp  placed  at  either  end.  Without 
further  appliances,  or  means  of  dramatic  effect,  the  performer 
came  forward  in  his  private  dress,  as  he  would  have  entered  any 
evening  party.  His  reception  was  enthusiastic.  The  following 
is  a  copy  of  the  bill : — 


202  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

Theatre  Royal  English  Opera  House,  Strand. 

The  public  are  respectfully  informed,  that  they  will  find  Mr.  Mathews 
"  At  Home,"  this  evening,  Thursday,  April  2nd,  1818;  Saturday  the 
4th,  and  on  the  Monday,  Tuesday,  Thursday,  and  Saturday  following, 
when  he  will  have  the  honour  of  presenting  his  visitors  with  an  Enter- 
tainment called 

MAIL-COACH   ADVENTURES. 

Affording  an  introduction  for  various  comic  songs,  imitations,  &c. 
Previous  to  which  he  will  address  the  company  on  the  subject  of  his 
present  attempt. 

PAET   riEST. 

Recitation — Introductory  Address,  general  improvement  in  the  con- 
veyance of  live  lumber,  as  exemplified  in  the  progress  of  heavy  coach, 
light  coach,  caterpillar,  and  mail. — Whimsical  description  of  an  expedi- 
tion to  Brentford. 

Song — Mlail- coach. 

Recitation — Description  of  the  passengers. — Lisping  Lady  and  Critic 
in  Black. 

Song — Royal  Visitors. 

Recitation — Breaking  of  a  spring. — Passengers  at  High  gate. — 
Literary  Butcher. — Socrates  in  the  Shambles. — Definition  of  Belles 
Lettres. — French  Poets. — Rhyming  defended. 

Song — Cobbler  a  la  Francaise. 

Recitation— Theatrical  conversation. — Dimensions  of  Drury-lane 
and  Covent  Garden  stages. — Matter-of-fact  conversation;  satire  on 
truisms. 

Song — Incontrovertible  Facts  in  various  branches  of  Knowledge. 

PAET   SECOND. 

Mr.  Mathews  will  deliver  an  Experimental  Lecture  on  Ventriloquy. 

PAET   THIED. 

Recitation — Digression  on  the  study  of  the  Law :  whimsical  trial, 
Goody  Grim  versus  Lapstone. — Scramble  at  Supper. — Drunken  Farmer. 
—Extract  from  Hippisley's  drunken  man. 

Song — London  Newspapers. 
Recitation — Imitation  of  Fond  Barney  of  York. — Arrival  of  a  Scotch 
Lady. — Long  story  about  nothing. 

Song — Bartholomew  Fair. 
Recitation — A  Quack  Doctor. — Mountebank's  harangue. — Anecdote 
of  a  Yorkshireman. 

Song — The  Nightingale  Club. 
The  Entertainment  to  conclude  with  novel  specimens  of  Imitation, 
in  which  several  tragic  and  comic  performers  will  give  their  different 
ideas  how  *'  Hamlet's  advice  to  the  Players"  should  be  spoken. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  203 


this  first  attempt,  the  notices  published  at  the  time  con- 
i  more  perfect  account  than  any  I  could  now  give.     This 


Of 
tain  a  more  perfect  account  than  any 

first  performance,  though  composed  of  materials  which  had  been 
presented  to  the  public  during  the  previous  ten  years,  was  hailed 
in  a  collected  form  with  extraordinary  delight,  and  its  success 
may  be  considered  a  greater  triumph  of  his  skill  and  versatile 
powers  than  all  he  afterwards  did,  even  with  the  advantage  of 
novelty.  The  following  was  Mr.  Mathews's  Introductory 
Address : — 

Ladies  and  Gentlemen, — Appearing  before  you  in  this  novel  way,  it 
will  naturally  be  expected  that  I  should  give  some  explanation  of  the 
motive  that  has  induced  me  to  make  so  bold  an  attempt  as  that  of 
offering  you  a  whole  evening's  entertainment  by  my  own  individual 
exertions.  It  is  simply  this  : — public  approbation  has  long  since  flat- 
tered me  into  the  belief,  that  I  have  some  pretensions  to  the  title  of  a 
comic  actor.  The  vanity  of  mankind  is  easily  roused  by  the  encourage- 
ment of  popular  applause;  and  I  am  not  aware  that  actors,  though 
proverbially  modest,  are  more  exempt  from  vanity  than  patriots  and 
statesmen.  Fully  gratified  in  this  particular,  it  has  therefore  been  my 
highest  ambition  to  appear  before  you  in  the  legitimate  shape  of  a 
regular  comedian.  Circumstances,  however,  which  I  could  neither  con- 
trol nor  account  for,  have  deprived  me  of  the  opportunity  of  so  doing. 
In  the  meantime,  I  have  been  frequently  urged  by  my  friends  to  attempt 
an  entertainment  by  myself,  and  reminded  with  what  success  the  cele- 
brated Dibdin  had,  during  several  winters,  kept  audiences  together  by 
his  single  exertions.  Still  I  preferred  the.  exercise  of  my  profession  as 
a  member  of  the  national  theatre ;  and  could  I  have  been  indulged  in 
the  first  wish  of  my  heart,  that  of  appearing  frequently  before  you  in 
characters  of  legitimate  comedy,  in  that  capacity  I  should,  probably,  have 
remained  to  the  end  of  my  days,  without  ever  attempting  to  exhibit  that 
little  knack  for  distinct  mimicry  to  which  I  since  have  unfortunately 
been  exclusively  doomed. 

In  the  latter  part  of  my  last  winter's  engagement  it  became  evident 
to  me,  that  all  hopes  of  attaining  my  favourite  object  were  at  an  end. 
I  scarcely  ever  had  the  opportunity  of  appearing  before  you  but  in 
characters  solely  devoted  to  the  peculiarities  of  mimicry.  The  press, 
perhaps  unconsciously,  took  its  tone  from  the  managers ;  and  a  part  of 
it  (I  do  not  say  the  whole,  for  I  should  be  ungrateful  if  I  did),  but  a 
part  fell  into  the  habit  of  designating  me  as  a  mere  mimic,  and  no 
actor.  It  will,  however,  be  observed,  that  the  best  authorities  have 
characterized  the  drama  by  the  title  of  the  mimic  art ;  and  I  humbly 
conceive,  that,  without  mimicry,  there  can  be  no  acting.  It  is  the  very 
essence  of  personation,  and  he  who  cannot  personate  the  character 
imagined  by  an  author,  in  my  mind  can  never  be  an  actor.  If  this 
argument,  which  I  have  presumed  to  advance,  be  admitted,  it  is  surely 
a  strange  deduction,  that  a  man  ceases  to  be  an  actor  because  he 
personates  half  a  dozen  characters  in  a  drama  instead  of  one.    Be  this 


204  THE  LIFE  AND   COERESPONDENCE  OF 

as  it  may,  such  has  been  the  opinion  given  in  my  particular  case.  The 
public  naturally  supposed  the  peculiarities  of  my  cast  of  characters  to 
be  my  own  taste.  I  therefore  hope  I  shall  be  excused  for  taking  this 
my  only  opportunity  of  avowing  my  firm  attachment  to  that  legitimate 
drama  of  the  country,  which  I  devoutly  hope  may  one  day  be  restored 
to  us. 

I  trust  it  is  clearly  understood,  that  I  have  spoken  not  of  motives, 
but  of  effects.  I  have  not  the  slightest  disposition  to  attribute  my 
treatment  to  any  illiberal  feeling  :  it  was  probably  accidental ;  but  the 
facts  are  undeniable,  and  the  results  to  me  the  same  as  if  they  had  been 
premeditated.  Daring  the  last  season,  which  consisted  of  two  hundred 
and  thirty-nine  nights,  I  had  only  the  opportunity  of  appearing  forty- 
six,  and  not  once  in  a  character  in  a  comedy.  It  is  true  that  twelve 
nights  of  those  forty-six  I  rode  one  of  the  finest  horses  the  stud  of  the 
theatre  could  afford  ;*  but  even  this,  though  I  certainly  was  exalted  by 
it,  did  not  satisfy  mj'  ambition.  During  the  rest  of  the  time,  to  make 
use  of  a  theatrical  term,  I  was  laid  upon  the  shelf;  but  I  was  too  fond 
of  my  profession  and  public  applause  to  lie  quietly  there.  I  grew 
restless  and  fidgetty,  and  like  a  good  soldier,  who  feels  he  has  not  yet 
done  half  his  duty,  whenever  I  peeped  from  my  uneasy  quarters,  and 
saw  a  muster  of  the  dramatic  corps, 

My  soul  was  in  arms,  and  eager  for  the  fray  ; 

in  which  I  might  prove  my  zeal  and  my  devotion  in  your  service.  But 
this  was  not  permitted.  At  length  I  suspected  my  services  were  not 
required  at  all;  and  therefore,  "  Like  a  well-bred  dog  who  walks  quietly 
down  stairs  when  he  sees  violent  preparations  on  foot  for  kicking  hiin 
into  the  street,"  I  followed  the  example  of  my  betters,  and  resigned, 
rather  than  run  the  risk  of  staying  to  be  turned  out.  I  retired.  It 
was  my  own  act.  I  complain  of  no  one.  I  only  assert  my  right  to 
make  use  of  whatever  talent  may  have  been  bestowed  on  me  to  the 
best  advantage  to  myself:  for  if  1  can  only  be  allowed  to  exhibit  those 
talents  in  a  national  theatre,  which  I  once  wished  to  be  confined  to  the 
amusement  of  my  private  friends ;  if  I  cannot  be  allowed  my  chance, 
like  other  actors,  in  the  usual  way ;  if  the  regular  practitioners  will 
drive  me  to  quackery,  why  I  will  sell  my  medicines  on  my  own  account, 
and  they  shall  call  me  mountebank,  if  they  like;  but  if  such  I  am, 
like  one,  I  will  have  a  stage  to  myself  My  vanity,  if  they  please,  has 
led  me  to  make  the  attempt.  It  is  a  bold  one,  but  the  encouragement 
is  in  your  hands.  If  I  can  stand  single-handed  against  the  hosts  of 
superior  entertainment  by  which  I  am  surrounded,  it  will  be  a  feather 
in  my  cap.  It  is  in  your  power  to  place  the  feather  there ;  and  if  it  is 
once  planted,  be  assured  it  shall  be  worn  gratefully,  as  well  as  tri- 
umphantly. I  feel,  however,  considerable  anxiety  for  the  result,  and 
unaffectedly  acknowledge  my  fearful  diffidence  of  my  own  abilities. 

*  Mr.  Harris  had  introduced  horses  into  the  drama  of  ''Lodoiska,"  in 
which  Mr.  Mathews  performed  Varbel. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  205 

The  difficulties  of  my  task  are  so  numerous  and  obvious,  that  were  I  a 
stranger  in  the  land,  I  should  abandon  it  to  despair ;  but  when  I  look 
round  me,  and  reflect  on  the  numerous  instances  of  kindness  I  have 
received,  gratitude  for  past  favours,  and  zeal  to  merit  new  ones,  conspire 
to  banish  those  apprehensions  which  an  undertaking  like  mine  had  so 
naturally  excited ;  and  I  enter  on  my  task  without  more  apology,  or 
further  adding  to  a  preface  which,  I  fear,  has  already  too  long  encroached 
upon  your  patience. 

This  was,  indeed,  an  unprecedented  instance  of  individual 
success.  The  crowds  that  nightly  flocked  to  witness  the  per- 
formance seemed  scarcely  to  lessen  the  number  of  hourly  appli- 
cants for  places :  not  a  day  passed  without  many  private  en- 
treaties from  persons  who  were  disappointed  in  procuring  places 
at  the  box-office  to  Mr.  Mathews,  to  contrive  that  they  should 
be  accommodated,  as  if  the  theatre  had  been  elastic,  and  could 
be  stretched  at  pleasure  for  their  gratification.  Innumerable 
letters  from  all  ranks  of  persons  were  addressed  to  my  husband 
to  obtain  admittance.  The  following  owes  its  preservation  to 
its  being  kept  as  an  autograph  of  a  celebrated  person  : — 

24,  Bury-street,  St.  James's,  Tuesday,  April  30th,  1818. 

My  DEA.B  SiE, — I  am  here  but  for  a  short  time,  and  have  set  apart 
Thursday  for  the  very  great  treat  of  hearing  you  at  the  Lyceum  j  but 
as  they  tell  me  it  will  be  next  to  impossible  to  find  places  without 
having  before  secured  a  box,  I  presume  so  far  on  my  acquaintance  with 
you  as  to  beg  your  interest  for  three  seats  somewhere.  My  friend,  Mr. 
Irving  (the  author  of  "The  Sketch-Book")  is  one  of  those  that  accom- 
pany me. 

Yours  very  truly,        Thomas  Mooee, 

Here,  then,  was  the  result  of  Mr.  Arnold's  calculation.  For 
my  own  part,  I  felt  stunned  with  the  blow,  for  such  it  seemed 
to  our  future  happiness.  The  wondrous  success  of  the  night 
spoke  loudly  to  me  of  my  husband's  imprudence  and  precipitancy  ; 
and  while  our  friends  came  one  after  another  to  my  box  to  con- 
gratulate me,  and  bring  me  cheering  messages  from  others,  I 
hardly  knew  how  to  separate  my  real  satisfaction  at  the  popu- 
larity of  Mr.  Mathews  from  the  depressing  recollection  that  the 
most  solid  result  of  his  success  was  for  the  benefit  almost  of  a 
stranger ;  and  when  I  greeted  him,  upon  our  return  home,  it 
would  have  been  curious  to  an  observer  to  see  our  manner  to  each 
other,  which  might  have  been  said  to  resemble  the  twofold  ex- 
pression of  the  ingenious  French  grimacer,  the  one  half  of  whose 
face  laughed  while  the  other  cried.     This  was  really  the  case 


206  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE   OF 

with  our  feelings,  for  we  rejoiced  and  mourned  at  one  and  the 
same  time. 

However,  we  agreed  to  remain  in  our  little  cottage,  and  tried 
to  he  content.  The  next  day  Mr.  Mathews  felt  ill ;  but  he  ral- 
lied, and  reappeared  a  second  night,  with  the  same  results.  He 
came  home  sick  and  feverish :  but  again  and  again  he  performed 
his  task,  and  the  appetite  of  the  town  seemed  to  grow  "  by  what 
it  fed  on ;"  the  demand  for  places  nightly  exceeded  the  number 
to  be  obtained ;  and  Mr.  Arnold's  anxiety  natural^  augmented 
at  this  extraordinary  popularity  of  his  project,  lest  it  should  be 
known  that  he  was  the  principal  gainer  by  it ;  and  he  cautioned 
me  frequently  not  to  betray  the  secret,  for,  as  he  suggested,  it 
was  possible  that  the  public  would  feel  disappointed  to  find  Mr. 
Mathews  not  the  principal  person  benefited  by  his  performance. 
All  this  was  painful,  and  bitterly  did  we  feel  the  numerous  con- 
gratulations we  received  upon  the  speedy  fortune  that  must 
accrue  from  such  a  source.  Mr.  Mathews,  however,  resolutely 
went  on,  ill  as  he  felt,  determined  to  abide  the  result  of  his  own 
rashness,  reasonably  and  honourably  reflecting,  that,  as  Mr. 
Arnold  had  taken  all  the  risk,  he  had  fairly  a  right  to  the  profit 
arising  from  the  success  of  his  speculation. 

It  was  my  original  intention,  as  it  was  my  earnest  wish,  to 
remain  silent  upon  the  subject  of  Mr.  Mathews's  engagement  to 
Mr.  Arnold  ;  for  to  touch  upon  it  even  slightly  was  a  very  painful 
effort  to  me  on  many  accounts,  and  I  should  have  passed  over 
the  whole  transaction,  had  it  not  been  pointed  out  to  me  as  a 
duty  to  the  memory  of  my  husband,  paramount  to  every  other 
consideration,  to  confute  the  universal  belief  of  his  having  made 
a  prodigious  sum  of  money  in  this  the  first,  and  the  six  following 
seasons,  of  his  "  At  Homes."  This  was  a  very  natural  impres- 
sion, from  the  well-known  great  receipts  consequent  upon  the 
performance.  At  the  period  of  which  I  speak,  while  he  was 
receiving  the  congratulations  of  all  his  friends  at  the  rapid  fortune 
he  was  accumulating,  he  was  inwardly  regretting  the  too  humble 
estimate  of  his  own  powers,  which  had  led  him  into  the  mistake 
of  binding  himself  as  a  servant  where  he  ought  to  have  been  the 
master.  When  Mr.  Mathews  first  stood  singly  before  the  public 
— when  the  building  in  which  he  performed  almost  groaned 
under  the  weight  of  spectators — when  he  who  attracted  them 
was  supposed  by  his  individual  merit,  his  unremitting  mental 
and  bodily  toil,  to  be  receiving  a  proportionate  reward  for  his 
unparalleled  exertions,  he  was,  in  fact,  a  poorer  man  than  he 
had  found  himself  for  many  years. 


CHAELES  MATHEWS.  207 

I  shall  content  myself  with  this  assertion  :  the  evidences  are 
in  my  possession,  and  I  earnestly  desire  to  commit  them  to 
oblivion ;  but  I  cannot  forget  the  deep  anguish  my  dear  husband 
felt  for  his  incautious,  unadvised  precipitancy,  in  devoting  to 
another  what  he  too  late  felt  should  have  chiefly  benefited  his 
family,  for  he  thought  not  of  himself.  He  repented  the  step  for 
ever  afterwards,  although  he  never  suffered  his  bad  bargain  to 
lead  him  willingly  into  any  neglect  of  the  interest  of  the  person 
whose  fortune  he  was  making  during  the  long  period  he  was  so 
bound.  It  was  harassing,  however,  to  find  his  means  constantly 
overrated,  for  the  fallacy  of  his  enormous  receipts  affected  him 
in  various  ways  during  the  rest  of  his  life ;  he  was  always,  there- 
fore, annoyed  when  told  of  his  vast  possessions,  for  he  was  said 
to  be  worth  more  money  than  he  ever  earned.*  In  this  extra- 
vagant estimate  of  his  riches,  no  allowance  was  thought  of  for 
his  living,  the  education  of  his  son,  and  other  necessary  as  well 
as  incidental  expenses.  The  simple  fact  of  his  standing  alone 
before  the  public  for  so  many  years,  naturally  enough  led  to  this 
false  conclusion  ;  but  those  who  held  up  their  hands  with  admira- 
tion at  the  immense  fortune  he  was  making,  were  unacquainted 
with  the  main  fact  of  his  situation  with  Mr.  Arnold,  and  the 
requisite  expenses  and  drawbacks  that  attended  his  individual 
performances,  when  he  travelled  for  his  own  profit.  When  he 
made  a  tour  in  the  provinces  his  expenses  were  excessive ;  he 
was  compelled  to  take  assistants,  servants,  carriages,  machinery, 
pianoforte,  wardrobe,  &c. ;  and  when  he  could  not  spare  time  to 
travel  with  his  own  horses  (a  not  inexpensive  plan),  he  had 
ruinous  posting  to  pay.  Inn  bills  were  of  no  trivial  amount  for 
four  persons  (himself,  his  managing  man,  musician,  and  servant)  ; 
hiring  and  preparing  rooms  and  theatres,  with  their  appendages, 
demanded  a  heavy  disbursement,  for  advantage  was  taken,  under 
the  dishonest  reckoning  that  his  superior  receipts  warranted 
every  encroachment  upon  them ;  when  other  applicants  were 
charged  five  guineas  for  a  room  or  a  theatre,  Mr.  Mathews  was 
frequently  required  to  pay  twelve  or  fourteen.  I  remember  as 
an  instance  of  this,  that  once  when  his  managing  man  went  for- 
ward to  secure  a  small  theatre  for  his  performance,  the  demand 
was  three  guineas  per  night  for  its  use  ;  but,  upon  being  made 
acquainted  for  whom  it  was  to  be  engaged,  he  was  immediatel}'- 
informed  by  the  agent  that  when  Mr. ,  the  proprietor,  left 

*  In  more  than  one  instance  be  was  said  to  possess  a  *  *  plum." 


208  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

orders  for  letting  it,  he  desired  that  should  Mr.  Mathews  happen 
to  apply,  it  must  not  be  let  to  him  under  nine  !* 

But  to  return.  One  day  a  gentleman  who  was  on  habits  of 
great  intimacy  with  my  hiisband,  finding  his  hearty  congratula- 
tions upon  his  prospect  of  realising  a  speedy  fortune  produce  no 
satisfaction,  suspected  that  something  was  withheld  which  ren- 
dered them  unwelcome ;  and  feeling  a  real  interest  in  the  pros- 
perity of  our  family,  he  at  length  drew  a  confidential  admission 
of  discontent,  and  a  partial  revelation  of  the  circumstances  in 
which  he  was  placed.  He  then  delivered  up  to  his  legal  friend's 
investigation  the  heart  of  his  mystery,  by  producing  the  fatal 
parchment ;  and,  strange  to  say,  from  this  accidental  inspection 
Mr.  Mathews  first  became  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  whole 
extent  of  his  obligations.  I  have  no  apology  to  offer  for  a  mani- 
fest and  censurable  indiscretion,  but  my  husband's  inborn  and 
unfortunate  hatred  to  the  formalities  of  business.  In  the  present 
case,  when  the  time  arrived  for  final  settlement,  he  did  not  feel 
the  necessity  of  inspecting  the  document  offered  to  his  scrutiny 
— but  rashly  and  hastily  affixed  his  name  to  it — impatient  to 
enter  a  chaise  then  waiting  to  convey  him  to  Dover,  and  into 
which  he  hastened  with  his  future  master  in  high  spirits  ;  and 
away  went  the  fettered  slave,  without  considering  the  weight 
and  quality  of  his  chains,  or  how  they  were  calculated  to  oppress 
and  gall  him  when  in  action. 

The  terms  of  this  document,  its  pains  and  penalties,  reduced  my 
husband  to  the  very  verge  of  frenzy  when  they  were  made  clear 
to  him  by  his  legal  friend,  whose  judgment  and  advice  in  the 
first  instance,  had  not  the  secrecy  been  the  basis  of  the  negotia- 
tion, must  have  preserved  him  from  this  enthralment.  The  ex- 
tent of  his  imprudence  and  misfortune  then  reached  his  compre- 
hension, and  despair  seized  upon  every  faculty.  It  was  in  vain 
that  he  had  resolved  on  performing  his  duty  to  his  employer — 
he  had  not  till  now  an  idea  of  its  extent.  He  knew  he  had  re- 
signed the  greater  part  of  his  profits  to  another,  but  he  had  no 
understanding  of  what  was  exacted  besides.  Indeed  the  clauses 
that  existed  in  this  bond'  were  of  the  most  extraordinary  nature. 
Ey  one  of  them  it  was  required  that  my  husband  should  not  only 
work  all  the  year  round  for  Mr.  Arnold,  but  be  subservient  to 
his  discretionary  power  to  command  him  to  go  to  any  part  of 

*  The  proprietor  of  a  large  room  at  Worcester  once  wrote  to  Mr.  Mathews 
to  come  there  and  perform,  and  offered  him  his  place  and  one-fifth  of  the 
receipts  for  his  performance.  This  application  was  almost  too  impudent,  even 
to  laugh  at. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  209 

Great  Britain,  Ireland,  or  the  Continent,  he  chose  to  specify,  and 
to  exert  his  talents  wheresoever,  and  in  whatever  manner,  Mr. 
Arnold  conceived  it  expedient  to  his  own  interest  to  command 
their  exercise.  In  another  part  it  was  insisted  that  upon  any 
occasion  of  absence  or  failure  of  his  expected  performance,  or 
from  whatever  cause  (personal  illness  excepted),  Mr.  Mathews 
was  on  each  and  every  omission  to  forfeit  the  sum  of  two  hun- 
dred pounds  ;  so  that  the  inference  was,  that  in  the  event  of  any 
family  affliction,  the  loss  of  wife,  child,  or  any  other  calamity,  it 
was  not  to  interfere  with  his  duty  to  his  master. 

In  short,  the  reading  of  the  parchment  acted  like  a  stroke  of 
thunder  upon  my  husband ;  he  had,  as  I  have  said,  been  suf- 
fering from  the  effects  of  his  unusual  fatigue,  and  the  reflections 
which  would  obtrude,  in  spite  of  himself,  upon  his  mistaken 
estimate  of  his  own  strength  with  the  public  ;  his  conviction, 
from  his  present  suffering,  that  his  laborious  undertaking,  pur- 
sued too  under  such  harassing  control,  without  intermission,  for 
a  series  of  years,  v/ould  seriously  affect  his  health,  and  probably 
cause  him  to  leave  his  family  unprovided  for,  before  he  was 
allowed  opportunity  of  exerting  himself  independently  of  his 
duty  to  Mr.  Arnold ;  these  considerations,  added  to  the  shock 
of  this  iron  manacle,  of  which  he  now  felt  the  entire  pressure  for 
the  first  time,  caused  a  delirium  to  seize  upon  him,  and  he  was 
put  to  bed  at  a  friend's  house  in  town,  utterly  incapacitated  from 
all  further  thought  or  action. 

On  the  first  intimation  of  his  situation  and  inability  to  per- 
form, a  medical  gentleman,  a  stranger  to  us,  called  "  from  Mr. 
Arnold,  to  examine  into  Mr.  Mathews's  state  of  health !"  He 
found  my  husband  somewhat  better  as  to  bodily  ailment,  but  in 
that  state  of  mental  prostration,  that  it  must  have  been  clear  to 
the  physician  that  his  patient  was  quite  unfitted  for  the  required 
task ;  but  his  office  was  to  pronounce  whether  bodily  disease 
was  the  cause  of  the  non-performance  of  his  engagement.  Im- 
mediately after  his  report,  Mr.  Arnold  sent  in  a  legal  demand 
for  200^.,  which  demand  was  repeated  on  every  occasion  of 
failure  on  the  appointed  night  to  appear  at  the  English  Opera 
House.  At  these  aggravating  results  of  his  position  the  delirium 
returned ;  in  vain  were  Mr.  Arnold's  forfeitures — my  poor  hus- 
band's mind  was  overthrown,  and  mine  little  less  distracted. 
Mr.  Arnold  at  length,  by  my  desire,  came  himself  in  order  to 
examine  into  the  fact  of  my  husband's  disability  to  obey  his 
wishes,  and  he  then  saw  the  utter  folly  of  expecting  the  sufferer 
to  return  to  his  duties.     Our  friends  gathered  around  us;   a 

P 


210  THE  LIFE  AND  COKRESPONDENCE  OF 

party  of  them  visited  and  conferred  with  Mr.  Arnold,  and 
gradually  induced  him  to  admit  the  necessity  as  well  as  policy 
of  waiving  in  part  the  hard  conditions  of  his  bond ;  for  the 
question  was  whether  he  should  relax  a  little,  and  resign  a  part, 
rather  than  by  his  tenacity  destroy  the  whole  of  the  golden 
harvest  he  had  sowed.  My  husband's  friends  were  strenuously 
persevering,  and  pointed  out  that,  unless  Mr.  Arnold  did  some- 
thing that  would  allow  my  husband  to  prosecute  his  duties  with 
a  more  tranquil  feeling,  it  must  end  in  the  defeat  of  his  own 
hopes  altogether.  He  was  induced  to  listen  to  self-interest. 
Certain  conditions  were  then  rescinded,  others  modified,  and  the 
pecuniary  severity  of  the  agreement  ameliorated.  Mr.  Arnold's 
claims  upon  the  personal  exertions  of  my  husband  were  confined 
to  London,  leaving  him  the  other  months  to  work  out  his  time 
for  his  own  exclusive  profit  in  the  provinces. 

Another  agreement  was  made  out,  in  which  their  mutual 
obligations  were  to  be  limited  to  seven  seasons,  Mr.  Mathews 
being  at  liberty,  as  I  have  said,  to  perform  in  the  country  at  the 
annual  close  of  his  London  "  At  Home."  This  partial  release, 
when  made  clear,  acted  gradually  and  in  a  salutary  manner  upon 
my  husband's  mind  and  returning  health ;  he  was  able  to 
resume  his  public  duties  soon  after,  and  from  that  moment  he 
proceeded  cheerfully  and  zealously  to  perform  his  undertaking. 
Only  a  few  intimate  friends — those  who  had  exerted  themselves 
to  bring  about  this  alleviation  to  his  bondage,  knew  the  real 
cause  of  the  interruption  of  his  performance.  Mr.  Mathews 
never  met  Mr.  Arnold,  or  communicated  with  him  during  the 
time  of  discontent,  nor,  I  believe,  did  they  ever,  at  any  time 
during  their  future  knowledge  of  each  other,  revert  to  the 
painful  subject.  My  husband  went  steadily  on  without  shrinking 
from  his  task,  or  showing  the  least  ill-will  towards  his  task- 
master. Neither  was  he  ever  known  to  obtrude  his  natural 
regrets  upon  any  one,  that  he  had  given  up  the  best  part  of  his 
life  to  enrich  another.* 

*  It  has  been  suggested  to  me,  since  the  publication  of  this  -work,  that  I 
ought  to  state  the  pecuniary  conditions  of  this  engagement  (especially  as,  in 
one  instance,  they  have  been  misrepresented) ;  I  therefore  add  them  for  the 
satisfaction  of  those  who  may  find  themselves  interested  in  such  particulars. 

By  the  original  bond,  Mr.  Arnold  pledged  himself  to  pay  Mr.  Mathews 
lOOOL  a  year  for  life  (liable  to  the  deductions  mentioned),  on  condition  of  Mr. 
Mathews  exerting  his  talents  in  any  manner  or  place  dictated  by  Mr.  Arnold, 
four  times  every  week  for  seven  years.  An  undertaking  which,  judging  from 
the  first  effects  upon  his  health,  and  considering  the  constant  and  regular  call 
upon  his  strength  exacted  by  his  employer,  all  the  year  round,  would  probably 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  211 

In  a  few  weeks  after  these  harassing  struggles,  my  husband 
found  an  occasional  inconvenience  that  he  had  lately  felt,  aug- 
mented to  a  most  serious  disorder,  from  which  his  eventual 
sufferings  were  truly  pitiable.  I  can  only  describe  it  by  saying 
that  it  showed  itself  in  deep  cracks  across  his  tongue.  Every 
advice  was  sought  and  attended  to ;  but  it  baffled  first-rate  skill 
and  experience.  It  sometimes  prevented  him  from  eating,  and 
banished  sleep,  and  had  he  not  been  resolute  in  the  prosecution 
of  his  duty,  he  must  have  declared  it  (as  his  medical  men  did) 
impossible  to  use  it  professionally.  Every  word  he  uttered  was 
like  a  drop  of  aquafortis  upon  these  cracks.  It  was  distressing 
to  know  his  exertions  under  such  torture — and,  oh  !  how  painful 
now  to  remember  them.  This  complaint  had  in  turn  been  pro- 
nounced to  be  stomach  and  local  fever,  caused  by  anxiety  and 
his  great  professional  exertions.  Some  days  it  was  better,  at 
others  worse,  according  to  the  use  made  of  his  voice ;  but  it  was 
always  in  a  state  which  would  have  warranted  him  in  declaring 
acting  too  painful  to  be  attempted ;  still  he  persevered,  and  it 
was  heart-touching  to  witness  his  sufferings  on  his  return  home 
from  the  exertion.  On  the  days  of  performance  he  often  found 
it  requisite  to  preserve  a  total  silence  until  he  began  his  "  Enter- 
tainment," when  he  described  his  sensations  to  be  like  what  he 
must  be  supposed  to  feel  while  talking  and  singing  with  a  piece 
of  red-hot  iron  attached  to  his  tongue. 

have  limited  Mr.  Arnold's  responsibility  to  the  term  of  his  own  receipts. 
Assuredly  Mr.  Mathews  always  felt  occasional  rest  indispensable  from  his  un- 
common exertions,  and,  but  for  such  intervals,  his  constitution  must  have 
failed  much  earlier  than  it  did. 

By  the  second  agreement,  Mr.  Arnold  took  to  himself  the  first  forty  pounds 
of  every  night's  receipt,  after  which  he  shared  equally  the  remainder  of  it 
with  Mr.  Mathews,  who  was  required,  out  of  the  sum  paid  to  him,  to  con- 
tribute an  equal  part  with  Mr.  Arnold,  to  the  cost  of  authorship,  dresses, 
scenery,  and  other  incidental  expenses. 

Mr.  Arnold,  it  was  calculated,  made  by  this  speculation  thirty  thousand 
pounds,  independently  of  after  arrangements  with  Mr.  Mathews,  also  of  a 
highly  lucrative  nature. 


p2 


212  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONBENCE  OF 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

Journey  to  Liverpool — Incidents  on  the  road — Letter  to  Mrs.  Mathews — Eecep- 
tion  of  Mr.  Mathews  by  his  friends  at  Swansea — Visit  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Eolls 
at  Briton  Ferry — Letters  to  Mrs.  Mathews. 

At  the  close  of  the  first  season  of  his  "At  Home,"  at  the 
English  Opera  House — the  painful  disorder  in  Mr.  Mathews's 
tongue  heing  in  a  slight  degree  alleviated — he  again  set  forth 
for  the  provinces,  eager  to  remedj^  the  past  by  continued  exer- 
tions throughout  the  hot  weather,  when  he  ought,  in  reason,  to 
have  taken  rest  and  recreation  from  the  severe  anxiety  and  toil 
of  his  late  engagement.  He  had,  however,  to  pay  the  hard 
penalty  of  the  mistake  he  had  committed,  and  he  unhesitatingly 
determined  to  forego  personal  ease  to  "atone,"  as  he  said,  "to 
his  wife  and  child  for  having  so  rashly  given  away  their  rights." 
His  fault  was  more  than  expiated  by  the  penance,  even  had  it 
been  of  a  nature  less  pardonable — home  and  its  comfort  ex- 
changed for  every  possible  annoyance,  and  fatigue  both  of  body 
and  mind,  were  surely  punishment  enough  for  much  more  than 
is  expressed  by  the  words  imprudent  precipitancy. 

One  of  his  first  letters,  after  he  quitted  London,  will  give 
some  idea  of  his  wearisome  pilgrimage,  and  his  persevering  and 
even  cheerful  endurance  of  the  ills  he  encountered  in  his  way. 

To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Liverpool,  July  13th,  1818. 

Here  I  am  safely  arrived,  after  one  of  the  most  uncomfortable 
journeys  I  have  ever  encountered,  at  least  from  the  time  I  parted  with 
Simpson.     Lots  of  miseries  ! 

The  first  pleasing  intelHgence  we  received  was  in  a  small  town  at 
which  we  breakfasted  on  Saturday  morning.  The  ostler,  on  looking  at 
our  horse,  observed,  that  he  should  almost  have  thought  it  was  the 
same  horse  that  had  been  there  the  day  before.  On  inquiry,  he  had 
seen  George ;  and  on  the  question  being  put  to  him  as  to  what  time  he 
passed  through,  &c.,  he  replied,  "  Ah,  sir,  the  young  man  had  a  shocking 
accident !     The  horse  fell  down  with  him ;  he  rolled  over  his  head,  and 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  213 

he  has  cut  the  horse's  knees  sadly."  At  Stratford  we  found  George 
affecting  the  gay,  and  flattering  himself  that  we  should  not  examine 
the  horse.  Our  friend  had,  however,  exaggerated  the  matter;  for 
though  the  horse  had  been  down,  the  injury  was  very  trifling. 

We  drove  him  on  to  Coventry  that  night ;  got  up  early  to  be  ready 
by  the  Liverpool  mail :  at  eight  it  arrived.  Sent  up  to  know  if  there 
was  a  place — man  returned — yes,  sir,  one  place  outside.  Sent  my  port- 
manteau, gobbled  breakfast — presently  saw  man  return  with  my  port- 
manteau— smelt  a  misery.  Bookkeeper  had  just  discovered  that  the 
place  had  been  promised  to  a  gentleman  the  night  before.  No  other 
coach  to  Liverpool  that  day ;  set  off"  on  a  mere  scent  of  a  coach  to 
Birmingham,  per  gig ;  tired  horse  ;  eighteen  miles — drove  very  fast  to 
get  there  by  twelve :  heard  there  was  no  coach  till  four ;  obliged  to 
make  up  my  mind  to  go  by  that.  Gobbled  up  my  dinner  to  be  ready 
— went  to  the  coach-office  at  four — told  London  coach  was  not  come  in, 
and  the  other  could  not  start  till  half  an  hour  after  its  arrival ;  went  at 
five — not  arrived ;  fidgets  increased  ;  promised  to  arrive  at  nine  next 
morning.  Did  not  believe  that ;  saw  two  hours  fast  adding  to  that — 
anticipated  alarm  of  Liverpool  managers — rehearsal  dismissed;  at 
last  coach  arrived,  and  at  half-past  six  I  was  turned  ofi". 

I  was  told  the  coach  was  later  by  two  hours  than  ever  known — found 
it  was  licensed  to  carry  six  inside,  and  travelled  all  night.  Saw  "  two 
women  with  a  child  a-piece" — took  outside  place — began  to  rain  in  ten 
miles — forced  to  get  in — I  made  the  eighth !  One  of  the  ladies  was 
told,  "not  on  no  account  to  expose  the  child  to  night  air," — five  months 
old — sour  milk  in  a  bottle !  "  One  man  did  howl  in  his  sleep,"  an 
eccentricity  allied,  I  suspect,  to  madness.  I  awoke  once,  and  found  the 
windows  close  up.  Eight  inside — horrible,  most  horrible !  I  was 
stewed ;  but  it  rained  the  whole  night,  and  I  was  obliged  to  endure  it. 
I  was  compelled  to  have  recourse  to  violent  rage  and  ridicule,  whenever 
I, could  address  the  guard,  to  get  any  air  at  all. 

So,  after  all  the  pains  and  trouble  to  myself,  horses,  Simpson,  &c.,  to 
avoid  travelling  all  night  in  the  mail,  I  exchanged  it  for  the  heavy 
Liverpool  (a  term  I  shall  never  forget),  to  travel  all  night  with  eight 
people,  and  that  the  night  before  I  perform ;  however,  it  is  all  over, 
thank  Heaven  !  and  I  am  well. 

I  arrived  at  one  o'clock,  rehearsal  over,  of  course ;  but  luckily,  it  is 
the  Manchester  company  who  played  with  me  in  the  same  pieces  when 
I  was  last  there. 

A  theatrical  beggar  waited  on  me  before  I  had  been  here  an  hour; 
and  my  never-tailing  friend,  Ryley,  shortly  afterwards,  but  in  high 
spirits.  He  performed  here  in  the  Music  Hall  on  Saturday  night,  and 
had  a  good  receipt. 

I  begin  to-night — Goldfinch  and  BusJcin.  God  bless  you  and  my 
dear  boy.  I  can  spy  the  house  in  which  he  was  born  from  my  sitting- 
room  window.    Write  soon. 

C.  Mathews. 


214  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Manchester,  July  27tli,  1818. 

I  am  very  well  in  spite  of  my  tongue,  which  is  diseased  to  a  frightful 
extent ;  and  if  it  is  not  relieved  shortly,  I  must  lie  by  till  something  is 
discovered  to  relieve  me.     I  here  to-day  submitted  to  a  leech  in  my 

mouth,  by  advice  of  my  beloved  P ,  who  is  in  higher  feather  than 

ever.  It  was  a  most  unpleasant  operation ;  but  probably  may  be  effica- 
cious. My  complaint  "  reminded"  P of  a  "  whimsical  circum- 
stance. Henderson — er  er  um — sore  mouth — nehym  ur — leeches — 
glyd  um — three  instead  of  one — sy  nyt  num — according  to  Cocker — if 
one  does  good — um  er — how  much  will  three  do — er  um  er — put  in 
ersycern  or  vwog — bled  for  three  days" — ha,  ha,  ha !  I  am  delighted 
my  explanation  has  opened  your  eyes. 

You  may  rely  upon  it,  the  interest  of  yourself  and  dear  Charles  is 
nearest  to  my  heart;  and  that  the  object  of  my  life  will  be  to  make 
him  independent,  and  if  I  am  blessed  with  health,  it  can  and  shall  be 
done. 

I  had  a  great  house  last  night  at  Liverpool,  though  the  heat  was  near 
spoiling  all.  I  have  not  time  for  particulars.  To-night  1  wrote  to 
Simpson,  to  ask  him  to  meet  me  at  Oxford,  that  we  may  arrange 
matters  there.     I  hope  to  be  at  home  on  Friday  night. 

C.  Mathews. 

In  the  course  of  the  autumn  of  this  year  (1818)  Mr.  Mathews 
visited  his  Welsh  friends,  and  performed  at  Swansea  for  the 
first  time  since  his  early  glories  there.  He  was  received  in 
public  with  almost  tumultuous  plaudits,  and  in  private  with  the 
glow  of  kindly  hearts,  whose  recollection  of  him,  after  twenty 
years'  absence,  was  as  fresh  as  if  he  had  been  the  favourite  of 
yesterday  with  them.  He  was  lucky  enough  to  find  among  this 
single-minded  warm-hearted  race  several  of  his  first  friends 
alive ;  and  the  meeting  was  mutually  gratifying.  He  remem- 
bered how  glad  his  youth  had  been  made  by  the  firesides  of  the 
respectable  people  who  had  courted  him  then,  a  friendless 
stranger ;  and  they  were  gratified  that  in  his  raised  condition 
he  had  retained  a  recollection  so  pleasing  to  them  and  honour- 
able to  himself. 

We  were  at  this  time  staying  with  our  friends,  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Bolls,  at  Briton  Ferry — a  spacious  and  beautiful  mansion,  the 
scene  of  unbounded  pleasure,  and  which  better  deserved  to  be 
called  happiness  than  any  mode  of  living,  on  so  large  a  scale,  in 
which  I  ever  took  a  part.  Mr.  Mathews  contrived  to  go  over 
to  chat  with  his  old  friends  at  Swansea  very  often,  and  on  one 
occasion  assembled  them  round  a  large  table  at  the  Mackworth 
Arms,  where  he  gave  them  a  dinner,  and  rehearsed  old  scenes 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  215 

again  and  again,  till  the  eyes  of  his  guests  overflowed  with  tears 
of  delight.  Even  little  Saddington,  the  prompter  of  Masterman's 
company,  the  only  theatrical  remains  of  olden  times  upon  the 
spot,  was  not  forgotten  by  "  the  great  London  actor,"  and  on 
his  return  to  us  at  night  the  good-hearted  entertainer  was  as 
elated  with  the  satisfaction  he  had  given  to  the  worthy  people 
as  if  he  had  been  receiving  honours  instead  of  conferring 
kindness. 

In  October,  Mr.  Mathews  quitted  Briton  Ferry,  leaving  me 
with  our  friends  till  his  return  from  his  engagements  in  Ireland, 
his  men  of  business,  viz.,  Mr.  Simpson  his  treasurer,  and  Mr. 
Edward  Knight  his  musician,  having  joined  him  at  Swansea, 
where  the  carriage  and  servants,  &c.,  remained,  for  the  purpose 
of  accompanying  him  on  his  voyage. 


216  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

Mr.  Mathews's  second  "  At  Home :"  Trip  to  Paris — Description  of  that  Enter- 
tainment— His  farewell  address — Literary  pirates — Ivy  Cottage  and  the 
picture  gallery — Mr.  Mathews  in  Scotland — Letters  to  Mrs.  Mathews — The 
methodist  and  the  actor— Letters  to  Mrs.  Mathews. 

The  period  destined  for  a  second  attempt  (no  less  hazardous  than 
the  first)  to  keep  an  audience  in  attentive  good  humour  for 
nearly  four  hours  by  his  single  exertions, — if  single  that  can  be 
appropriately  called  which  is  made  up  of  so  multifarious  a 
whole, — had  now  arrived.  Accordingly  on  the  8th  of  March 
Mr.  Mathews  was  again  "  At  Home,"  and  related  his  "  Trip  to 
Paris,"*  with  increased  reputation,  and  performed  a  dramatic  act, 
called  "  La  Diligence,"!  with  equal  success. 
The  following  was  the  announcement  :— 

The  Public  are  respectfully  informed,  that  having  been  abroad,  they 
will  again  find  Mr.  Mathews  "  At  Home,"  in  his  old  quarters,  at  the 
Theatre  Royal  English  Opera  House,  Strand,  on  Monday  next,  March 
8th,  1819,  when  he  will  have  the  honour  to  perform  his 

TRIP  TO  PARIS  in  their  company. 

Paet  Fiest. — Introduction. — Poetical  Proem. — Recitation.— Tours; 
why  generally  undertaken. — Piccadilly. — Lady  Dory  the  Fishmonger. 
— Sir  Dogberry  Dory  gone  to  Paris. — Mr.  Gossamer,  junior,  the  Juvenile 
Glover. — Mr.  Gossamer,  senior,  gone  to  Paris. — Everybody  gone  to 
Paris. 

Song — Do  as  other  folks  do. 

Recitation. — Leaders  and  Followers  of  Fashion. — Low  Life  or  Vul- 
garity :  what  is  it  ?  and  where  does  it  exist  ? 

Song— PaW*  is  the  only  place. 

Hecitation. — Why  Mr.  Mathews  determined  to  go. — Dover  Mail. — 
Digression  on  Sleep  (not  long  enough  to  provoke  it). — Pleasant  Travel- 
ling Companions. — A  voyage  to  Calais. 

*  By  Mr.  Poole.  '  By  Mr.  James  Smith. 


CHAELES  MATHEWS.  217 

Song — Delights  of  the  Packet, 

Part  Second. — Recitation. — Safe  Landed. — Jabber. — Surprise. — 
A  French  Commissionaire. — Wonder. — Extraordinary  Talent  of  French 
Children. — Astonishment!  a  French  Diligence. — Bathos:  French 
Posting. — Orthoepical  Persecution  ;  or  poor  Mr.  Rogers  and  Monsieur 
Denise. — French  Capital. — MeUrice's  Hotel. — Hiring  a  Valet-de-Place. 
— Anglo-Gallo-Hibernian. — Tuileries  Gardens. — English  Visitors. — 
Crowds  of  Cockneys. — Characters. — Craniology. — Mnemonics. — Phy- 
siognomy.— Mnemonics  unexplained  by  Mr.  Minikin. — Physiognomy 
ill  explained  by  the  Widow  Loquax. — Craniology  fully  explained  by 

Song — Lumps  and  Bumps. 

JRecitation. — The  Catacombs. — Lecture  on  Craniology,  by  the  re- 
nowned Doctor  Von  Dunderdronk  Von  Hoaxburg  Von  Puzzledorff  Von 
Chousehem. — Eeturn  to  the  Hotel. 

Song — A  Day  at  Meurice's. 

Paet  Thied. — Recitortion. — Visit  to  the  Theatre  Fran^ais. — 
Hamlet  in  Paris. — The  Boulevards. — A  Character. — Mundungus  Trist. 
—Miseries. — More  Miseries. 

Song — Seadsfor  a  Quarto  ;  or^  the  Rains  of  Rleasuring. 

Recitation. — The  Scotch  Lady. — An  Old  Acquaintance. — Short 
Story  about  Something.— French  Handbill  in  French  English. — Lec- 
ture on  England  and  the  English  Language,  by  Mons.  Charles  Guil- 
laume  Denise. — De  Charlatanville. 

Song — The  Departure  ;  or,  Now  Farewell  to  Paris  Revels. 

Part  Fourth. — A  Mono-poly-logue  Descriptive  of  LA  DILI- 
GENCE.    DiligencicB  Persona : 

Jemmy,  an  English  Boots  at  the  foreign  office  ?  ivr    lu  4^1        t 
(a  very  old  acquaintance)    .         .         ,         ,  J  Mr.  Mathews . 

Monsieur  Peremptoire,  a  Travelling  Tutor       .     Mr.  Mathews ! ! 

Monsieur  Tommy  Tarragon,  his  Infant  Pupil,  )  -^^    tit  j.i-        1  1 » 
a  "  Vox  etplcBtereavAhiX"        .         .    ^  !  P^'  ^^*^^^«  • ' ' 

Samuel  Starch,  Esq.,  "  a  tailor  made  him"        .     Mr.  Mathews  ! ! ! ! 

Hezekiah  Hulk,  a  great  Attorney  of  Size  Lane    Mr.  Mathews  ! ! ! ! ! 

Miss  Evelina  Evergreen,  an  old  Maid       .         .     Mr.  Mathews  !!!!!! 

And  Monsieur  Poudre  Meneur,  a  French  Pos-  )  ^^  Mathews'  "  "  " 
tilion         .         .         ,         ,         .         .         .3 

The  Songs  will  be  accompanied  on  the  Pianoforte  by  Mr.  Knight. 

Mr.  Mathews  closed  his  "  At  Home,"  on  Saturday,  the  5tli 
of  June,  after  a  most  splendid  and  successful  season,  on  which 
occasion  he  spoke  the  following  Farewell  Address  : — 

Ladies  and  Gentlemen, — The  longest  journey  must  have  an  end,  and 
the  pleasanter  our  progress  on  the  road,  the  more  painful  is  the  parting 


218  THE  LIFE  AND  C0ERESP0ND;ENCE  OF 

with  our  fellow-travellers.  Such  is  my  feeling  at  this  moment,  when, 
after  travelling  forty  nights  to  and  from  Paris  in  your  company,  the 
hour  has  at  length  arrived  when  I  must  reluctantly  bid  you  farewell. 

If  I  may  be  allowed  to  judge  of  the  cordial  smiles  with  which  my 
labours  have  been  cheered  tliroughout,  I  may  venture  to  hope  that  you 
participate  in  this  feeling ;  and  I  shall  therefore  solace  myself,  during 
the  interval  of  separation  from  my  indulgent  friends,  with  the  pleasing 
task  of  preparing  to  receive  them  "  At  Home"  again  next  season,  with, 
new  matter  for  their  entertainment. 

To  this  end  I  shall  study  new  characters,  and  aim  at  new  persona- 
tions ;  not  with  an  unworthy  view  to  outrage  private  feelings,  by  holding 
up  personal  defects  to  ridicule,  but  with  the  more  useful,  and  at  the 
same  time  less  offensive  object,  of  showing  how  easily  peculiarities  be- 
come disagreeable  if  suffered  to  grow  into  habits ;  and  how  frequently 
habits,  if  so  indulged  in,  may  become  ridiculous. 

Such,  with  all  humility,  I  consider  to  be  the  fair  game  of  what  is 
attempted  to  be  degraded  by  the  name  of  mimicry.  It  is  that  in  the 
physical  world  which  satire  is  in  the  moral ;  and  if  the  work  of  a  satirist 
of  manners  be  not  degraded  by  the  appellation  of  a  lampoon,  I  know  not 
why  the  exhibition  of  an  imitator  of  manner  should  be  classed  with  the 
mere  grimaces  of  a  buffoon. 

I  have  thought  it  necessarj'-  to  say  thus  much  in  defence  of  that  which 
I  consider  as  the  very  soul  of  the  profession  of  an  actor — imitation ;  for 
no  one,  I  presume,  will  deny,  that  Shakspeare  would  have  written  in 
vain  (so  far  as  applies  to  stage  representation)  had  actors  attempted  to 
play  Othello  with  a  fair  face,  or  Richard  the  Third  without  a  hump. 

Thus  it  appears  there  are  cases  in  which  even  personal  deformities 
and  defects  may  become  proper  subjects  of  satire.  Such  as  the  decre- 
pitude of  age  affecting  the  follies  and  gay  frivolities  of  youth  ;  the  rich 
and  antiquated  one-eyed  lover  ogling  the  young  and  beautiful  victim  of 
an  odious  passioiv  ;  or  a  youthful  coxcomb,  with  bandy  legs,  obtruding 
his  pitiable  deformity  on  your  notice  by  exhibiting  his  otherwise  pretty 
person  in  a  quadrille.  Such,  in  endless  variety,  are  the  fair  and  allowed 
objects  of  imitative  satire.  Still,  I  may  perhaps  be  acquitted  from  any 
charge  of  vanity,  when  I  assert,  that  even  in  such  cases  a  more  than 
ordinary  accuracy  of  observation  is  necessary  to  hit  off  successfully  those 
nice  distinctions  of  character  and  manner  which  form  the  wide  differ- 
ence between  a  correct  portrait  and  a  vulgar  caricature ;  and  if  I  have 
succeeded,  or  can  succeed  (by  holding  the  mirror  up  to  Nature,  and 
showing  Folly  her  own  image^  and  Vice  its  own  deformity)  in  correcting 
any  one  of  a  foolish  habit,  or  an  offensive  peculiarity ;  and,  above  all, 
in  affording  the  public  a  few  hours  of  harmless  mirth,  I  think  my 
labours  amply  rewarded,  and  that  my  life  has  not  been  altogether 
passed,  or  my  humble  talents  exerted,  without  some  degree  of  use- 
fulness. 

Ladies  and  Gentlemen, — It  now  only  remains  for  me  to  offer  my 
grateful  acknowledgments  for  the  liberal,  indeed  splendid  patronage  I 
have  received.     So  greatly  has  that  patronage  exceeded  my  hopes,  that 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  219 

I  have  to  boast  this  season  of  having  been  honoured  by  the  presence  of 
some  thousands  of  visitors  more  than  attended  me  last  year  ;  and  it  is 
this  unlooked-for  increase  of  public  favour  that  not  only  encourages  a 
hope  for  the  future,  but  stimulates  every  exertion  of  which  I  am  capable, 
to  merit,  if  possible,  a  continuance  of  your  valuable,  and,  believe  me, 
ever  and  highly  valued  kindness. 

From  the  first  year's  "At  Home"  it  was  discovered  that 
spurious  editions  of  the  performances  were  sold  at  the  doors  of 
the  theatre ;  and  Mr.  Mathews  was  annoyed  by  seeing  them  in 
various  parts  of  the  theatre  occasionally  referred  to  by  the 
persons  thus  imposed  upon.  As  the  whole  of  the  pretended 
Entertainment  was  made  up  of  the  most  contemptible  trash 
that  could  be  conceived,  he  had  the  mortification  of  hearing  of  it 
where  the  real  performance  was  never  heard ;  and  frequently 
when  on  the  stage  he  would  find  himself  interrupted  in  a  song 
by  persons  turning  over  the  leaves  of  these  books  in  order  to 
trace  in  the  words  before  them  something  resembling  what  they 
listened  to.  It  was  in  vain  that  a  notice  appeared  nightly  in 
the  bills,  warning  the  visitors  of  the  theatre  that  no  printed 
edition  of  the  entertainments  was  geimine ;  people  did  not  read 
this  warning  and  the  nuisance  continued.  At  last,  grown 
bold  by  impunity,  on  the  occasion  of  the  "  Trip  to  Paris,"  these 
pirates  ventured  to  take  down  in  short-hand  some  of  the  real 
matter.  This  afforded  a  tangible  opportunity  for  stopping  their 
proceedings  ;  and  Mr.  Mathews,  in  order  to  give  publicity  to 
the  fact  he  had  so  often  wished  to  impress,  namely,  that  he 
never  had,  nor  ever  would,  print  his  "At  Homes,"  applied  for  an 
injunction  to  stop  the  sale  of  the  pirated  edition,  which  he 
obtained,  and  which  was  thus  announced  in  the  newspapers. 

On  Saturday  an  injunction  was  obtained  by  Mr.  Mathews  in  the 
Vice-Chancellor's  Court,  to  restrain  John  Buncombe,  and  Dean  and 
Munday,  from  selling  any  more  copies  of  two  works,  purporting  to  be 
parts  of  "  The  Trip  to  Paris"  (written  expressly  for  him  by  Mr.  James 
fcJmith  and  Mr.  John  Poole),  as  delivered  by  him  at  the  English  Opera 
House. 

In  May  we  took  possession  of  Ivy  Cottage,  which  Mr. 
Mathews  had  purchased  on  a  lease  of  ninety-nine  years;  a  term 
which  gave  him  time  to  look  forward  to  much  enjoyment  of  it. 
We  found  it  scarcely  finished,  and  the  grounds  unformed.  A 
space  near  it  was  found  for  the  addition  of  the  Picture  Grallery, 
which  was  immediately  planned  and  begun,  and  the  shrubberies, 
lawn,  Eftid  flower-garden  laid  out. 

About  this  time  Charles  declared  his  predilection  for  architec- 


220  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

ture.  So  earnest  was  he  in  his  desire  to  make  it  his  profession, 
that,  after  a  great  struggle,  his  father  gave  up  his  favourite  wish 
of  placing  him  in  the  church ;  and  as  it  was  necessary,  under 
this  change  of  plan,  that  the  hoy  should  immediately  begin  his 
preparatory  studies,  the  idea  of  college,  where  Mr.  Richardson 
had  declared  that  he  would  acquire  distinction,  was  relinquished, 
and  an  agreement  entered  into  with  Mr.  Pugin,  the  architectural 
draughtsman  (and  the  once  scene  painter  in  Wales,  when  Mr. 
Nash  and  Mr.  Mathews  acted  together),  to  take  the  young  artist 
for  four  years. 

From  this  gentleman's  design  the  Theatrical  Picture  Gallery 
was  now  completed ;  and  no  sooner  had  its  owner  formed  this 
new  tie  to  the  spot,  where  to  him  happiness  alone  existed,  than 
the  very  expense  of  maintaining  it  required  his  resignation  of  its 
pleasures,  and  his  duty  compelled  his  absence  from  it.  Therefore, 
after  he  had  satisfactorily  placed  his  son  in  the  only  profession 
for  which  he  had  ever  manifested  an  inclination,  Mr.  Mathews 
once  more  left  home  in  pursuit  of  that  bane  of  human  life,  and 
antidote  to  some  of  its  cares — money.  The  large  sums  recently 
expended  in  raising  the  building  I  have  mentioned,  and  in  a 
premium  to  Mr.  Pugin  on  Charles's  account,  rendered  present 
exertions  imperiously  necessary  to  make  up  in  some  measure  so 
considerable  an  outlay,  in  addition  to  the  original  purchase  and 
furniture  of  the  cottage,  no  mean  amount  in  itself.  Charles  now 
began  his  architectural  studies,  in  furtherance  of  which  he  ac- 
companied Mr  Pugin  to  Paris. 

In  the  autumn  of  this  year,  Mr.  Mathews  projected  a  pro- 
fessional visit  to  Scotland,  and  broke  ground  at  Edinburgh, 
where  he  was  received  with  acclamation. 

To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Edinburgli,  Oct.  20th,  1819. 

I  am  going  on  famously  here.  I  gave  my  Trip  on  Wednesday.  It 
would  have  done  your  heart  good  to  hear  the  roars  at  the  "  Scotch  - 
woman,"  the  success  of  which  I  rather  doubted  here.  It  is  the  greatest 
hit  I  ever  made  anywhere  in  that  part.  Bless  their  goodnatured  hearts  ! 
It  was  repeated  on  Thursday  and  last  night  (Friday).  I  netted  the 
last  night  about  1801.  At  the  words  "  he  was  a  vary  goodnatured 
body,"  which  I  hit  happily,  they  gave  me  a  thundering  round  of 
applause,  which  swelled  into  a  hurrah,  and  the  cheering  at  the  close 
was  delicious.  To-morrow  my  benefit :  all  the  boxes  taken — the  Trip 
again.     My  week  will  give  me  300/. 

All  the  world  are  here.  'Tis  the  Musical  Festival.  I  heardi  a  very 
charming  concert  last  night  in  the  theatre.  Braham,  Miss  Stephens, 
Ambrogetti,  Begrez,  &c.,  and  the  instrumental  part  very  perfect  indeed. 


CHAKLES  MATHEWS.  221 

A  curious  circumstance : — I  received  a  letter  (which  I  will  pVesei*ve) 
from  a  Methodist  preacher  here,  last  week,  to  say  he  was  a  pastor  of  a 
congregation  who  could  not  afford  to  purchase  a  Bible,  and  requesting 
me  to  make  a  present  of  one ;  and  I  have  done  so !  I  made  a  condition 
that  the  following  inscription  should  be  upon  it :  "  The  Gift  of  Charles 
Mathews,  Comedian."  It  is  finished,  and  will  be  announced  to  the 
elect  next  Sunday ! 

Chaeles  Mathgws. 

In  a  subsequent  letter  he  says : 

I  enclose  you  the  letter  of  my  Methodist  correspondent.  To-morrow 
my  Bible  is  to  be  sported  in  the  pulpit,  and  the  congregation  informed 
wiio  gave  it. 

To  C.  Mathews,  Usq» 

Oct.  12th,  1819. 
Deae  Sie, — I  hope  you  will  pardon  the  liberty  which  I  take  in 
writing  to  you.  But  the  fact  is  this,  I  knew  your  father  well,  and 
yourself  some  years  ago  heard  me  preach  at  the  Adelphi  Chapel, 
London.  I  am  an  Englishman,  and  at  present  supplying  a  congre- 
gation at  Leith,  most  of  them  very  poor  people.  We  are  in  want  of  a 
Bible  for  our  pulpit ;  and  if  you  will  have  the  goodness  to  present  us 
with  one,  I  should  esteem  it  a  singular  favour,  and  as  long  as  I  live 
will  bear  you  in  my  remembrance  as  a  gentleman  and  a  humane  cha- 
racter ;  and  I  am  sure  my  poor  friends  would  esteem  it  a  mark  of  the 
greatest  kindness. 

I  remain,  dear  Sir,  your  very  humble  and  obedient  servant, 

Thomas  Weston. 
At  Mr.  Eose's,  Syms'  Dry  Dock,  Leith. 

The  following  description  of  a  distressing  dilemma,  which 
occurred  to  him  on  tlje  road  to  Dumfries,  is  at  once  a  specimen 
of  the  great  inconvenience  Mr.  Mathews  sometimes  encountered, 
and  of  the  fortitude  which  on  every  important  occasion  he  ex- 
hibited. The  fretfulness  which,  as  he  observes,  "  the  loss  of  an 
old  slipper"  would  produce,  never  appeared  under  misfortunes  of 
a  graver  cast, — there  he  was  really  a  philosopher.  The  only 
occasion  that  I  can  remember  under  which  his  mental  and  phy- 
sical faculties  forsook  him  was  in  the  overwhelming  remorse  he 
felt  at  having  so  rashly  destroyed,  by  his  obligation  to  Mr. 
Arnold,  all  future  power  to  render  those  he  loved  independent  of 
the  world,  in  the  event  of  his  quitting  it  before  them  ;  an  event 
which,  in  the  course  of  nature,  might  be  supposed  certain — alas ! 
too  certain.  Let  the  painful  drawback  to  personal  exertion  by 
his  lameness  be  remembered,  and  his  determined  activity  will 
add  grace  to  his  behaviour  under  such  circumstances  as  the 
following: : — 


222  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Dumfries,  Nov.  19th,  1819. 
Did  you  happen  to  think  of  me  on  Tuesday  night,  about  seven 
o'clock  !  And  did  it  happen  to  blow  a  hurricane  at  Highgate,  as  it  did 
in  Dumfries-shire  ?  If  you  could  by  possibility  have  taken  a  peep  at  me 
about  that  moment,  or  any  one  similarly  situated  who  was  even  in- 
different to  you,  you  must  have  screamed  at  the  sight.  We  had  pro- 
ceeded from  Glasgow  to  within  seven  miles  of  Moffat,  where  we  pro- 
posed to  stay  for  the  night,  on  our  way  to  this  town.  There  had  been 
a  deep  snow  of  three  hours'  continuance,  which  was  succeeded  by  a 
most  tremendous  storm  of  wind  and  rain.  Daw  was  lulled  to  sleep, 
and  I  was  thinking  of  you  know  who,  and  enjoying  my  home  in 
perspective,  when  I  was  roused  from  my  reverie  by  frequent  warnings 
from  our  postilion,  as  I  imagined,  to  some  drivers  of  carts  to  keep  on 
their  own  side.  Suddenly  a  tremendous  concussion  shook  me  directly, 
off  my  seat,  and  threw  me  upon  Daw,  and  in  an  instant  the  carriage 
broke  down.  George  literally  shrieked ;  and,  on  lifting  his  head  from 
under  an  umbrella,  where  he  had  crouched  to  protect  himself  from  the 
storm,  felt  it  instantly  ascend  (not  his  head ! — the  umbrella)  with  the 
force  of  the  wind,  and  found  himself  lying  in  the  road  before  he  could 
account  for  the  cause  df  his  sudden  removal.  As  the  body  of  the 
carriage  lay  upon  the  axletree,  and  the  head  was  up,  it  was  some  time 
before  we  could  scramble  out.  My  first  thought  was  to  discover  the 
cause  of  our  misery;  and  I  sent  George  after  the  carts — there  were 
about  seven  or  eight  without  drivers  !■  You  may  imagine  our  horrors. 
The  concussion  was  so  forcible  that  the  front  spring  was  forced  quite 
out  of  its  situation,  two  yards  from  the  carriage,  without  being  broken. 
Every  bolt  that  attached  it  to  the  axletree  was  completely  broken  off, 
and  there  was  apparently  no  possibility  of  its  being  moved  from  the 
spot.  We  were  holding  a  council,  when  two  men  came  up  to  inquire 
the  nature  of  the  damage.  Luckily  for  myself,  perhaps,  I  was  not 
aware  that  they  were  two  of  the  scoundrels  belonging  to  the  carts,  who 
had  been  drinking  whisky  at  a  toll-bar  about  three  hundred  yards 
further  on.  They  pronounced  that  the  carriage  could  not  be  moved  till 
repaired.  Seven  miles  from  any  house  but  the  toll-bar! — pouring, 
blowing — standing  up  to  our  ankles  in  wet — a  frightfully  bleak  and 
mountainous  country  !  Imagine  our  despair.  We  were  for  a  few 
minutes  unmanned  and  deprived  of  energy,  and  totally  at  a  loss  what 
course  to  pursue.  It  was  too  dark  to  ascertain  the  extent  of  our 
damage ;  and,  for  the  first  time  since  we  had  been  out,  George  had 
forgot  the  candles  for  our  lamps.  I  proposed  (poor  limp !)  to  run  to 
the  toll-bar.  The  driver,  finding  his  horses  very  fidgetty,  proposed 
taking  them  off,  to  prevent  further  mischief.  In  two  minutes  after,  off 
they  set,  full  gallop,  towards  Moffat,  he  of  course  after  them.  Here  we 
were,  deprived  of  his  assistance.  I  reached  the  toll-bar,  a  mud  hovel ; 
inquired  for  ropes — not  one,  not  even  a  bit  of  string.  I  gave  a  strong 
hint  to  Toll-trap  to  afford  some  assistance  to  drag  the  carriage  to  the 
gate.    He  had  a  friend  with  him,  but  neither  offered  to  move.    I 


CHAELES  MATHEWS.  223 

borrowed  a  lantern — three  times,  in  my  way  to  the  carriage,  the  wind 
blew  out  the  light,  and  almost  my  breath  too.  Since  our  Irish  voyage, 
I  have  seen  no  such  night.  At  last  I  reached  the  carriage;  and  found, 
with  four  of  us,  all  that  could  be  hoped  would  be  to  get  it  to  the  toll- 
bar.  Daw  propped  up  the  body  with  his  shoulder,  I  trundled  the 
wheel  that  had  been  deprived  of  its  proper  action  by  the  removal  of 
the  axletree,  and  George  and  the  two  rascals  dragged  the  pole ;  for,  as 
the  horses  were  having  a  bit  of  fun  by  themselves,  we  had  not  their 
assistance.  After  a  good  deal  of  labour  we  got  it  to  the  toll-house  :  by 
this  time  we  were  soaked.  The  horses  were  at  length  caught  and 
brought  back,  looking  very  foolish.  At  last  it  was  settled  that  I  was 
to  ride  one  of  the  post-horses  into  Moffat,  send  a  chaise  with  a  smith, 
and  ropes  and  bolts,  and  bring  back  Daw,  who  was  left  in  the  wretched 
hovel  to  wait  its  return,  and  guard  the  property.  You  may  fancy  my 
ride :  up  mountains  and  down  again — alternate  sleet,  snow,  and 
pouring  rain — a  stumbling  old  cart-horse,  for  he  was  no  better.  Oh, 
that  I  could  bear  the  removal  or  loss  of  an  old  slipper  with  the  temper 
I  bore  this  misfortune !  Here  I  rose  superior  to  Daw,  who  is  one  of 
the  cool  tribe,  and  to  George,  one  of  the  indifferent.  At  the  top  of  a 
hill  one  mile  long,  and  equal  to  the  steepest  part  of  Highgate,  a  sudden 
gust  blew  my  horse  out  of  his  course.  I  was  in  spirits  at  having 
escaped  so  well,  and  caught  myself  at  my  old  resource — a  child — and 
cried,  "  Oh  cry !  what  fun !"  and  immediately  burst  out  laughing  at 
the  absurdity  of  my  own  ridiculous  behaviour.  I  reached  Moffat  in 
safety,  drenched  to  the  skin,  and  did  not  discover  till  I  had  arrived  that 
I  had  forgotten  my  hat,  and  had  rode  all  the  way  in  my  cap  which  I  put 
on  when  the  head  of  the  carriage  is  up.  I  put  on  some  clothes  of  the 
landlord's  (who  is  nearly  the  size  of  Wiggins),  and,  in  an  hour  after  my 
arrival,  was  seated  by  a  large  fire,  with  a  good  beef-steak  and  some 
whisky  punch.  Daw  arrived  at  twelve,  and  the  carriage,  with  George, 
the  smith,  &c.  at  one  o'clock.  The  coughs  of  the  two  poor  victims  with 
me  make  me  most  thankful  for  my  extraordinary  constitution.  Not 
.the  slightest  inconvenience  have  I  suffered.  I  am  perfectly  well,  the 
carriage  is  repaired,  and  all  right  but  a  pair  of  old  boots  that  were 
obliged  to  be  cut  off  my  legs  with  a  knife — and  Daw's  umbrella,  which 
we  suspect  to  be  the  one  seen  on  the  coast  of  Aberdeen,  going  towards 
the  coast  of  Holland. 

Chaeles  Mathews. 

Burns  died  here.  A  very  handsome  mausoleum  has  been  erected  over 
his  remains,  and  a  statue  by  Turnerelli.  I  called  on  his  widow  to-day, 
and  introduced  myself  to  her.  She  received  me  with  very  good  manners. 
She  is  a  comfortable  body,  in  a  very  neat  little  house.  All  the  family 
are  provided  for.     I  saw  the  only  portrait  of  him. 

The  following  letter  contains  an  account  of  another  CFcape 
which  Mr.  Mathews  was  destined  to  experience  *'  by  flood  and 
field." 


224  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Liverpool,  Nov.  29th,  1819. 

I  wish  Daw  and  George  may  live  out  the  journey.  I  am  fated  to 
live  with  coughing  subjects — two  such  victims !  What  a  fortunate 
fellow  I  am  !  another  escape  !  two  indeed ! 

There  were  great  advantages  held  out  to  me  in  coming  from  White- 
haven by  water : — 140  miles  by  land — mountains  of  Cumberland  almost 
impassable  in  frosty  weather — bad  road — post  horses  scarce — only 
eight  hours'  daylight — two  long  days  on  the  road.  By  sea  : — about 
half-way — safe  passage — constant  traders — do  it  in  twelve  hours — 
save  ten  pounds.  It  was  agreed  !  Daw  always  looking  blank — Satur- 
day morning,  fair  wind — Fishing  smack  hired  on  purpose — carriage 
"  pood  aw  to  bits" — put  on  board — wretched-looking  vessel — no  cabin 
or  beds — deep  fog  came  on — felt  a  horror — longed  to  say  I  won't  go — 
recollected  Captain  Skinner  saying,  "  Never  afraid  of  anything  at  sea 
but  a  fog.  However,  desperate  courage — made  up  my  mind.  Daw 
was  already  seated,  wrapped  ap,  looking  like  a  melancholy  watchman ; 
I  had  just  got  the  hand  of  a  friend  in  mine,  saying,  "farewell!"  and 
was  descending  nineteen  stone  steps,  from  the  pier  into  the  vessel,  with 
a  heavy  heart,  when  crack  went  the  foremast,  and  she  broke  off  close  to 
the  deck.  The  act  of  bawling  up  the  foresail  had  finished  this  ricketty 
mast.  But  for  this  providentially  happening  in  the  harbour,  the  vessel 
must  have  gone  at  sea,  and  the  consequence,  if  not  fatal,  would  at  all 
events  have  been  misery. 

The  carriage  was  unshipped.  Started  at  twelve  o'clock  instead  of 
seven :  we  commenced  our  land  journey,  which,  but  for  the  escape, 
would  indeed  have  been  miserable.  Deep  fog — roads  like  glass — horses 
slipping,  one  foot  forward,  the  other  back — and  a  hundred  and  forty 
miles  before  us.  Still  we  were  as  merry  as  grigs :  I  did  not  know  how 
to  contain  my  joy.  "  Please  to  remember  the  boat,"  was  our  watch- 
word when  any  little  misery  occurred.  We  made,  spite  of  all  impedi- 
ments, fifty-six  miles  that  night,  but  almost  starved  to  death.  Yester- 
day morning  started  at  seven ;  and  going  out  of  Burton,  about  ten 
o'clock,  down  a  hill,  both  horses  fell,  and  the  driver  lay  under  them. 
The  first  effect  was  terrific.  We  were  all  unhurt — carriage  and  all. 
Other  horses  were  procured,  and  another  driver ;  and,  after  a  long,  cold, 
dreary  journey,  arrived  here  at  ten  last  night,  and  were  expected — 
good  fires,  good  beds,  my  old  lodgings.  All  troubles  and  miseries 
appear  to  be  over. 

Write  in  as  good  spirits  as  your  last — it  does  me  good. 

C.  Mathews. 


To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Manchester,  Dec.  7th,  1819. 
I  have  just  arrived  here  from  Liverpool,  where  I  stayed  to  do  a  good 
action  last  night,  and  avoided  a  "  misery"  which  poor  Daw  had  all  to 
himself.    I  had  sent  him  forward  with  the  carriage;  and,  when  within 


CHAELES  MATHEWS.  225 

a  mile  of  Manchester,  the  tire  of  the  hind  wheel  came  off,  and  he  was 
about  an  hour  doing  the  mile — as  usual,  in  the  dark  and  raining. 

Poor  old  Ryley,  penniless  and  melancholy  as  usual,  was  ready  for  me 
on  my  arrival,  and  solicited  me  to  do  something  for  him  after  I  had 
finished  at  the  Theatre.  Incledon  also  arrived,  and  sang  three  songs. 
So  last  night  I  did  two  acts  of  the  "  Mail  Coach,"  and  old  "  Trist"* 
and  Charley  both  exhibited,  to  the  tune  of  lOOZ.  in  the  Music  Hall ;  so 
"  the  Itineranf't  was  in  luck  !  "  God  bless  the  good  people  of  Liver- 
pool." I  sent  off  2501.  to  Stephenson,  instead  of  the  two  hundred  I 
promised  to  you. 

And  now,  as  I  have  got  to  dine  and  act  to-night  (for  I  could  not 
afford  to  lose  a  night  by  my  charity,  therefore  stole  it  out  of  my  lungs), 
you  must  excuse  my  brevity. 

C.  Mathews. 

*  One  of  the  names  he  gave  to  Mr.  Ryley;  from  whose  peculiar  temperament 
he  took  the  character  so  called. 

t  The  title  of  Mr.  Eyley's  autobiography. 


226  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

Mr.  Mathews  again  "At  Home" — Country  cousins — Address  to  the  audience 
— Hogg,  the  Ettrick  Shepherd — Close  of  performance  at  English  Opera 
House,  and  Mr.  Mathews's  address — Mr.  Mathews's  visit  to  the  provinces— 
His  letters  to  Mrs.  Mathews — Lady  Butler  and  Miss  Ponsonby — Personifi- 
cation of  the  late  J.  P.  Curran — Letters  of  Mr.  Mathews  to  Mrs.  Mathews — 
Sensitiveness  of  Mr.  Mathews — Anecdote — Letters  continued — Two  impos- 
tors— Mr.  Mathews's  proposal  to  erect  a  monument  to  Sbakspeare  at  Strat- 
ford ;  public  meeting  on  the  occasion — Intended  ascent  in  a  balloon. 

The  time  now  approached  for  his  reappearance  in  London ;  and 
on  the  28th  of  February,  1820,  Mr.  Mathews  was  again  "  At 
Home,"  and  again  was  equally  successful.  His  "  Country 
Cousins,"  whom  he  now  introduced,  were  welcomed  to  town 
with  a  warmth  which  detained  them  there  until  the  close  of  the 
season  in  unabated  favour,  when  they  retired  with  the  rest  of  the 
London  fashionables.     The  following  was  the  announcement : — 

The  Public  are  respectfully  informed  that  they  will  again  find 
MR.  MATHEWS  AT  HOME 
At  the  Theatre  Royal  English  Opera  House,  Strand,  on  Monday  next, 
February  28th,  1820  ;  when  he  will  have  the  honour  to  commence  his 
Annual  Course  of  Lectures  on  Character,  Manners,  and  Peculiarities, 
by  introducing  his  Friends  to  his 

COUNTRY  COUSINS* 

And  the  Sights  of  London. 

Paet  First. — London  Cousins. — Country  Cousins. — Yorkshire 
Cousins  (Mr.  Mathews's). — Their  Names  and  Descriptions. — Aunt 
Agatha. — Her  last  Despatches  from  Whitby. 

Song — Country  Commissions. 

Sudden  Incursion  of  the  Goths  from  the  North,  viz..  Aunt  Agatha, 
Cousin  Dolly,  Cousin  Jerry,  Uncle  Baffin,  with  Zachary  Flail  their 
Appendix. — Characters  introduced:  Sir  Hubble  Bubble  and  Doctor 
Prolix.— Tale  of  a  Tail. — Gas  versus  Oil. — St.  Dunstan's  Church. — A 

*  By  James  Smith,  Esq. 


CHAELES  MATHEWS.  227 

Buck  Attorney. — Wager  of  Battle. — Chapter  Coflfee-house.— Loquacious 
Waiter. 

Song — WTiite  Sorse  Cellar, 

Monsieur  de  Tourville. — Garrick  and  Wilkes. — Dr.  Prolix's  Tale  of 
a  Head. — St.  Paul's. — Queen  Anne. — Bird  Statuary. — Wren  Architect. 
— Verger  and  Reverberation. — Tremendous  Notice  from  the  Whispering 
Gallery. — Bird's-eye  View  of  London. 

Song — O  what  a  Town,  what  a  wonderful  Metropolis. 

Panoramic  Prospect. — St.  James's  Park. — Chelsea. — Greenwich.— 
Palaces. — Hospitals. — Bow  Church. — Newgate. — Fleet  Prison. — Lin- 
coln's Lin. — Alderman's  Walk. — College  of  Physicians. — Bedlam.— 
Winter  Theatres. — Jerry's  Digression. 

^oi\^— Epsom  Races. 

Paet  Second. — Moulsey  Hurst. — Pugilism. — Song:  l^e  Mill 
{Anglice,  A  Fight). — Country  Cousins. — Carried  to  the  Monument. — 
Cast  Iron  Southwark  Bridge. — Catastrophes  of  Velocipedes. — Dr.  Rum- 
foozle  and  Mrs.  Inicumpip. — Incipient  Prosecutions. — Exhibition  at 
Somerset  House. — Sir  Hubble  Bubble  and  the  Hanging  Committee. — 
Zachary  Flail's  Disasters. — Mock  Auctions. 

Song — Zachary  Flail's  Description  of  London. 

Panorama  of  the  North  Pole. — My  Uncle's  Bay,  id  est  Baffin's  Bay. 
— Dr.  Prolix  on  Nose  Pulling. — Westminster  Abbey. — Indictment  at 
....  Sessions :  Rex  versus  Patrick  O'Row. — Justice  Metaphor. — 
Counsellors  Prim  and  Moonshine. — A  Countess's  Letter  to  a  Comedian, 
and  his  proposed  Answer. — Invitation  of  the  Country  Cousins  to  a 
Fashionable  Rout. 

Song — The  Rout,  or  Lady  Fidget  at  Home. 

Failure  of  Gossamer  and  Goosetrap,  Country  Bankers. — Northern 
Invasion  subsides. — Goths  driven  back  to  Whitby. — Adieu  to  London. 

Finale — Now  Farewell  to  Bagatelle. 
Paet  Thied.— Exhibition  of  the   Multiplication   Table  during  a 
Christmas  at  Brighton. — Solution  of  the  Mysteries  of  Four  Times  Five, 
by  the  juxtaposition  of  the  following  Figures,  viz. 

Alderman  Huckaback,  in  the  Chair  (surfeited). 

Tabitha,  his  Maiden  Sister  at  the  Table  (studious). 

Snap,  one  of  the  Livery. 

Signor  Canzonetti,  Singing  Master. 

Miss  Matilda  Huckaback,  his  Pupil. 

Molly  Magog,  a  Patagonian  Nurse. 

Methusalem,  a  Youthful  Watchman. 

Dicky  Gossip,  a  Posthumous  Barber. 

The  whole  being  embodied  and  animated  by  Mr.  Mathews. 

The  Pianoforte  by  Mr.  E.  Knight. 
q2 


228  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

Mr.  Mathews  prefaced  his  new  entertainment  by  the  following 
address  : — 

"  Ladies  and  Gentlemen, — This  being  the  third  Season  in  which 
I  am  gratified  by  appearing  '  At  Home'  before  you,  I  am  naturally  re- 
minded of  the  renowned  Whittington,  who,  as  you  all  know,  enjoyed  the 
delight  of  being  thrice  Lord  Mayor  of  London.  His  fame  was  founded 
on  a  lucky  cat — mine  on  a  lucky  hit.  It  was  his  department  to  banish 
mice,  'tis  mine  to  banish  melancholy.  Why  he  was  satisfied  with  being 
merely  thrice  Lord  Mayor  of  London  we  are  not  told ;  perhaps  the 
accumulation  of  custard  upon  his  stomach  rendered  him  unfit  for  the 
further  fatigues  of  ofiiee.  That — ecce  signum ! — is  not  my  case. 
Neither  will  this,  my  third  Election,  satisfy  an  ambition  that  pants  for 
*  Thrice  again,  to  make  up  nine.' 

It  is  therefore  my  intention,  should  I  by  your  suffrages  be  re-elected  to 
this  comic  chair,  so  to  conduct  myself,  as  to  drive  all  Blue  Devils  out 
of  the  Strand  from  eight  till  eleven  o'clock — to  bind  Seigh-ho  over  to 
good  behaviour — and  to  place  Ha!  Ha!  Ha!  those  three  graces  of 
speech,  on  that  proud  and  palmy  pinnacle  to  which  their  virtues  and 
talents  authorize  them  to  aspire.  It  is  my  intention  during  the  present 
evening  to  communicate  the  adventures  which  befel  me  in  exhibiting 
some  of  the  Sights  of  London  to  my  Country  Cousins. 

"  Before  I  enter  upon  my  task,  permit  me,  however,  to  utter  a  few 
words  in  explanation  of  the  epithet  'imitation,'  or,  as  it  is  sometimes 
in  carelessness,  and  sometimes  in  hostility,  called  '  mimicry.'  I  look 
upon  this  talent  when  applied  to  the  body,  to  be  what  satire  is  when 
applied  to  the  mind. 

"  If  the  satirist  drags  forth  private  and  innocuous  frailties  to  public 
view,  he  sinks  into  a  lampooner.  If  the  imitator  outrages  private 
feelings  by  holding  up  incurable  and  unpresuming  personal  defects  to 
public  ridicule,  he  degenerates  into  a  buffoon.  It  is  my  purpose  to 
evince,  by  general  delineations,  how  easily  peculiarities  may  be  acquired 
by  negligence,  and  how  difficult  they  are  to  eradicate  when  strengthened 
by  habit ;  to  show  how  often  vanity  and  affectation  steal  upon  the 
deportment  of  youth,  and  how  sure  they  are  to  make  their  possessor 
ridiculous  in  after  life;  in  short,  to  exemplify  the  old  adage,  that  *No 
man  is  contemptible  for  being  what  he  is,  but  for  pretending  to  be  what 
he  is  not.' 

"  Now,  then,  for  my  Cousins." 

It  will  appear  by  the  next  letter  that  the  Ettrick  Shepherd* 
had  at  one  time  some  idea  of  contributing  to  Mr.  Mathews's 
"  Entertainments." 

*  James  Hogg,  "the  Ettrick  Shepherd,"  writer  and  poet,  born  1782.  An 
uneducated  shepherd,  with  a  taste  for  verse-making,  and  great  good-fortune 
in  attracting  the  notice  of  Sir  Walter  Scott  and  many  literary  men  of  emi- 
nence. His  chief  poetic  work  is  "  The  Queen's  Wake;"  but  his  merits  will 
Dot  be  judged  by  posterity  to  be  equal  to  the  fame  which  he  enjoyed  in  his 
lifetime.    He  died  in  1835. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  229 

To  Francis  Anderson,  Esq.,  Jun. 

Altrive  Lake,  March  1st,  1820. 
My  deae  Feank,— I  have  always  looked  upon  Mrs.  McKnight's 
Original  Stories  as  truly  inimitable  ;*  and  as  soon  as  I  got  your  letter, 
I  gave  up  the  idea  of  being  able  to  comply  with  your  request,  and  very 
stupidly  ibrgot  to  answer  you.  You  know  how  happy  1  am  always  to 
oblige  you,  and  there  is  nothing  I  would  not  try  for  such  an  ingenious 
original  as  Mr.  Mathews ;  but  truly  and  honestly  I  have  little  chance 
of  success.  If  I  can  produce  aught  that  pleases  me,  I  will  send  it ; 
but  do  not  harass  me  should  it  not  arrive,  for  then  be  sure  I  have 
failed. 

I  am  yours  ever,  most  affectionately,         James  Hogg. 

On  the  27th  of  June  the  season  at  the  English  Opera  closed, 
and  Mr.  Mathews  made  his  farewell  bow  at  the  end  of  his  third 
campaign.  The  house  was  extremely  well  filled,  and  he  con- 
trived to  keep  it  in  a  roar  of  laughter,  as  hearty  and  unrestrained 
as  on  the  first  night  of  his  attempt.  At  the  close  of  his  per- 
formance he  came  forward,  and  thus  addressed  the  audience : — 

"  Ladies  and  Gentlemen, — Thus  I  conclude  the  third  season  of 
my  entertainments,  which,  through  your  unexampled  kindness  and 
patronage,  I  may  boast  of  as  having  been  pre-eminently  successful.  To 
say  that  I  am  proud  and  grateful  for  the  distinction  you  have  conferred 
on  me,  would  be  but  faintly  to  express  the  warmth  of  those  feelings 
which  animate  me  towards  my  benefactors.  To  have  already  drawn 
together  one  hundred  and  twenty  audiences,  crowded  by  rank  and 
fashion,  is  no  mean  boast  for  an  humble  individual  like  myself;  but 
when  I  reflect  that  I  may  exclaim  with  the  Roman  hero,  *  Alone  I 
DID  IT,'  I  confess  I  feel  a  glow  of  self-gratulation  that  my  good  fortune 
prompted  me  to  quit  the  long  beaten  path  of  the  regular  drama,  to 
adventure  on  so  novel  and  hazardous  an  undertaking. 

"  It  now  only  remains  for  me  to  assure  you,  that  no  exertions  of 
ingenuity,  or  labour  of  observation,  shall  be  wanting  to  render  my  next 
year's  entertainment  still  more  deserving  of  your  favour  than  those 
which  have  preceded  it ;  and  I  do  trust  to  be  enabled  so  far  to  vary  its 
nature  as  to  present  you  with  something  new,  not  only  in  substance 
and  character,  but  in  method  and  arrangement  also.  At  all  events,  I 
trust  I  shall  not  have  exhausted  in  myself  the  happy  faculty  of  exciting 
your  mirth,  and  I  hope  you  will  not  have  lost  the  inclination  to  come 
here  and  be  merry. 

"  Ladies  and  gentlemen,  with  reiterated  thanks,  and  the  most  cordial 
good  wishes,  I  now  respectfully  bid  you  farewell." 

As  he  retired,  the  pit  rose  and  greeted  him  with  the  waving 
of  hats,  whilst  loud  cheers  resounded  from  every  part  of  the 
house. 

*  la  allusion  to  the  Scotch  Lady. 


230  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

The  rigid  determination  of  Mr.  Mathews  to  lose  no  time  in 
the  prosecution  of  his  plan  of  atoning  for  past  mistakes  by  per- 
sonal sacrifice  and  labour,  induced  him  again  to  form  provincial 
engagements,  without  allowing  himself  an  interval  of  rest  after 
his  fatiguing  season.  In  pursuance  of  this  resolution,  therefore, 
on  the  evening  of  his  last  night  at  the  English  Opera  House, 
he  took  leave  of  home,  sleeping  in  town  in  order  to  begin  his 
journey  thence  the  next  morning  at  daybreak.  His  first  letter, 
merely  a  few  lines  scribbled  at  his  first  halt  on  the  road,  gave 
me  the  following  hurried  notice  of  his  concluding  night's  per- 
formance : — 

To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Maidenhead,  June  26th,  1820. 

Arrived  here  not  quite  broiled.  Just  off  again.  Good  house  last 
night;  everything  went  well.  Quite  smooth  in  my  address.  The 
Duke  of  Wellington  was  in  a  private  box,  and  sent  me  a  message  at  the 
end  of  the  first  part,  begging  that  I  would  be  quick  between  the  acts, 
and  that  I  would  not  mention  his  name.* 

C.  Mathews. 


To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Ludlow,  July  6th,  1820. 

This  is  the  most  beautiful  town,  I  think,  in  England,  in  the  most 
luxuriant  country.  Here  are  two  days'  races.  They  have  evening 
races ;  and  the  play  does  not  begin  till  these  are  over.  Last  night  I 
began  my  work  at  ten  o'clock !  At  half-past  nine  not  one  person  in 
the  house ;  by  ten  it  was  full ;  ay,  4f)l. !  and  wonderful,  too — such  a 
barn !     To-night  I  expect  the  same  sort  of  thing. 

I  never  heard  of  anything  so  hard  or  so  unjust  in  my  life  as  your 

suffering  from  that  fiend,  Mrs. ;  my  blood  boiled  while  I  read 

your  account.  For  once  my  discernment  has  been  superior  to  yours  ; 
I  never  could  endure  that  woman.  Pray  write  often,  if  only  four  lines, 
for  I  have  been  long  enough  away  to  be  very  low,  at  times,  and  I  have 
been  fidgety  and  uncomfortable  all  this  day  in  consequence  of  the  non- 
arrival  of  the  paper. 

C.  Mathews. 


To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Evesham,  July  20th,  1820. 
I  was  travelling  all  day  yesterday,  and  arrived  here  just  as  the  mail 
made  its  appearance  for  London. 

I  did  wonders  at  Birmingham.     What  think  you  of  90?.  in  a  room  ? 

*  Not  wishing  a  pointed  recognition  from  the  audience. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  231 

This  was  Thursday.  The  common  outcry  was  against  Saturday  for  a 
second  performance,  as  it  is  pay-night,  and  the  worst  night  in  the 
week  : — "  What  a  pity  you  can't  play  to-morrow  ?" — "  No ;  impossible  !" 
— "  Monday  ?" — "  Advertised  at  Cheltenham  !" — "  Well,  it's  a  pity, 
for  I  really  would  not  advise  you  to  play  on  Saturday :  we  are  all  in 
our  counting-houses  till  eleven." — "  Never  mind,"  said  I,  "  I  will  try."  I 
did :  75 Z.  Ha !  I  have  no  doubt,  no  hesitation  in  pronouncing  that  this 
was  the  greatest  thing  I  ever  accomplished,  and  shows  that  my  new 
name  is  greater  than  my  old  one,  for  my  attraction  had  evidently  ceased 
when  I  was  in  Birmingham  last.  This  completes  my  right  reading, 
4fOO^.  in  the  month ;  not  clear,  mind. 

I  have  seen  within  these  three  or  four  days  an  extraordinary  exhi- 
bition ;  four  children  all  born  in  one  day  of  one  mother,  all  exactly 
alike ;  sixteen  months  old,  and  all  hearty. 

C.  Mathews. 


To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Oswestry,  Sept.  4th,  1820. 

The  dear  inseparable  inimitables.  Lady  Butler  and  Miss  Ponsonby, 
were  in  the  boxes  here  on  Friday.  They  came  twelve  miles  from  Llan- 
gollen, and  returned,  as  they  never  sleep  from  home.  Oh,  such  curi- 
osities !  I  was  nearly  convulsed.  I  could  scarcely  get  on  for  the  first 
ten  minutes  after  my  eye  caught  them.  Though  I  had  never  seen 
them,  I  instantaneously  knew  them.  As  they  are  seated,  there  is  not 
one  point  to  distinguish  them  from  men  :  the  dressing  and  powdering 
of  the  hair ;  their  well-starched  neckcloths ;  the  upper  part  of  their 
habits,  which  they  always  wear,  even  at  a  dinner-party,  made  precisely 
like  men's  coats;  and  regular  black  beaver  men's  hats.  They  looked 
exactly  like  two  respectable  superannuated  old  clergymen;  one  the 
picture  of  Boruwiaski.  I  was  highly  flattered,  as  they  never  were  in 
the  theatre  before. 

The  packets  now  sail  at  seven  in  the  morning ;  all  day-work  instead 
of  night,  which  is  delightful ;  and  the  weather  is  heavenly.  People 
here  are  extremely  hospitable;  but,  of  all  days  in  the  year,  Mr. 
Ormsby  Gore  went  to  Carnarvon  assizes  (being  high  sheriff)  the  day 
before  1  arrived.  He  only  returned  yesterday ;  and  almost  forced  me 
away  from  the  inn.  I,  however,  could  not  conveniently  go  there,  but 
have  been  to  call  this  morning.     Such  a  place  ! 

By  the  by,  have  you  any  magnolias  in  the  grounds  ?  if  not,  get  me 
one  or  two.  I  saw  a  Portugal  laurel,  only  four  years  old,  full  half  the 
size  of  that  great  beauty  at  Lord  Mansfield's  ;  pray  have  one  or  two  of 
them  placed  by  themselves  on  our  new  lawn. 

I  have  to-day  received  an  invitation  to  call,  if  I  have  time  as  I  pass, 
at  Llangollen,  to  receive  in  due  form,  from  the  dear  old  gentlemen  called 
Lady  Butler  and  Miss  Ponsonby,  their  thanks  for  the  entertainment  I 
afforded  them  at  the  theatre. 

C.  Mathews. 


232  THE  LIFE  AND  COREESPONDENCE  OF 

To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Porkington,  Oct.  24th. 

Well,  I  have  seen  them,  heard  them,  touched  them.  The  pets,  "  the 
ladies,"  as  they  are  called,  dined  here  yesterday — Lady  Eleanor  Butler 
and  Miss  Ponsonby,  the  curiosities  of  Llangollen  mentioned  by  Miss 
Seward  in  her  letters,  about  the  year  1760.  I  mentioned  to  you  in  a 
former  letter  the  effect  they  produced  upon  me  in  public,  but  never 
shall  I  forget  the  first  burst  yesterday  upon  entering  the  drawing-room, 
to  find  the  dear  antediluvian  darlings  attired  for  dinner  in  the  same 
manified  dress,  with  the  .Croix  de  St.  Louis,  and  other  orders,  and 
myriads  of  large  brooches,  with  stones  large  enough  for  snuflP-boxes, 
stuck  into  their  starched  neckcloths !  I  have  not  room  to  describe  their 
most  fascinating  persons.  I  have  an  invitation  from  them,  which  I 
much  fear  I  cannot  accept.  They  returned  home  last  night,  fourteen 
miles,  after  twelve  o'clock.  They  have  not  slept  one  night  from  home 
for  above  forty  years.  I  longed  to  put  Lady  Eleanor  under  a  bell-glass, 
and  bring  her  to  Highgate  for  you  to  look  at.  To-morrow  night  I 
give  a  night  here  to  Stanton,  a  poor  manager.  On  Thursday,  Litch- 
field ;  Saturday,  Cheltenham ;  and  then  for  home ;  dear  home,  dear 
Nancy  and  Charles ! 

I  really  would  advise  building  the  wall,  if  you  are  clear  we  have  a 
right  to  build ;  but  if  you  are  in  any  doubt,  I  shall  be  home  about 
Monday  week ;  but,  again  I  say,  do  what  you  like. 

C.  Mathews. 

Mr.  Mathews  excessively  disliked  to  be  looked  at.  He  would 
make  a  circuit,  lame  as  he  was,  through  all  the  dirty  windings 
of  London,  or  elsewhere,  to  escape  the  recognition  of  the  better- 
bred  part  of  the  population  ;  and,  like  a  shying  horse,  he  was 
always  on  the  look-out  for  objects  of  annoyance.  In  driving 
about  town  he  would  generally  keep  the  blinds  down  on  his 
side,  and  would  push  me  forward  in  the  carriage,  as  he  said,  "  to 
take  off  the  stare  from  him."  On  all  public  (non-professional) 
occasions  he  liked  to  have  some  noticeable  person  with  him,  to 
attract  the  looks  of  strangers  from  him.  If  he  heard  his  name 
even  whispered,  his  eyes  would  fall  and  his  colour  mount ;  yet, 
sometimes,  if  any  person,  in  middle  or  low  life,  appeared  to  know 
him,  and  discovered  their  knowledge  by  any  indications  that 
seemed  involuntary,  a  smile,  or  a  leer,  he  would  smile  good- 
humouredly  in  return  and  not  feel  annoyed  at  such  notice, 
though  at  the  same  time  it  made  him  look  "sheepishly."  Not 
onl/  did  he  object  to  the  gaze  of  strangers,  hut  any  other  per- 
son looking  fixedly  at  him,  or  any  part  of  his  dress,  was  equally 
disagreeable  to  his  feelings ;  yet  often,  as  if  by  a  fatality,  he  had 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  233 

something  about  him  that  seemed  to  invite  the  notice  he  dis- 
hked.  He  constantly  wore  a  miniature  eye  as  a  shirt-pin,  which 
naturally  attracted  the  observation  of  people  while  they  listened 
to  him.  From  the  weight  of  its  setting,  it  always  appeared  as 
if  it  was  in  danger  of  falling  out ;  and  when  warned  of  the  pro- 
bability of  this  happening,  he  would  hastily  (and,  as  I  knew, 
impetuously)  button  up  his  waistcoat  to  hide  it  from  further 
remark. 

A  droll  incident  occurred  to  him  after  his  visit  to  Sir  Roger 
Gresley.  On  the  following  day,  having  returned  to  his  inn  at 
Litchtield,  he  was  visited  by  one  of  the  gentlemen  whom 
he  had  met  the  evening  before.  Mr.  Mathews  was  always  rest- 
less and  depressed  on  his  days  of  performance.  This  was  one  of 
them ;  and  he  willingly  would  have  dispensed  with  the  company 
of  his  new  acquaintance.  As  the  visit  lengthened,  he  paced  up 
and  down  the  room,  from  time  to  time,  with  some  impatience. 
The  visitor,  however,  was  immovable.  At  length  conversation 
began  to  flag.  The  restlessness  of  my  husband  increased,  but 
the  gentleman  seemed  rooted  to  his  chair.  It  was  evident,  too, 
that  while  Mr.  Mathews  walked  about,  the  eyes  of  the  visitor 
were  directed  to  his  feet.  He  thought  that  his  lameness  caused 
this  pointed  notice,  and  sat  down  abruptly.  Still  the  eyes  gazed 
with  undiminished  interest ;  and  no  admirer  of  a  Cinderella  foot 
ever  appeared  more  fascinated  than  did  this  gentleman  with  those 
of  my  poor  husband.  Again  he  started  up ;  again  he  walked 
and  talked.  The  gentleman  answered,  but  seemed  to  grow  ab- 
sent. Still,  however,  his  eyes  "  glared,"  as  my  husband  angrily 
termed  it,  at  his  feet.  At  last,  quite  unable  any  longer  to  en- 
dure this  persevering  invesbigation  of  his  pedal  pecuharities,  he 
suddenly  informed  his  visitor  that  he  must  excuse  him,  as  he  had 
the  business  of  the  night  to  arrange.  The  gentleman  again 
looked  anxiously  at  the  feet'  of  the  now  really  enraged  owner  of 
them  (who  showed  by  his  manner  how  much  he  was  annoyed), 
hesitated,  and  blushed ;  but  at  last  timidly  observed,  "  Those 
shoes  of  yours  are  very  peculiar,  Mr.  Mathews?"  A  snappish 
"  Yes,  sir,"  was  all  the  reply  of  the  wearer,  whose  anger  was 
increasing  every  instant.  "  I  had,  I  think,  a  pair  like  them." — ■ 
"  Probably,"  was  the  only  word  jerked  out  in  answer.  "  Indeed 
I  did  not  think  a  second  pair  was  to  be  found  of  the  same  make." 
My  husband  looked  daggers  as  he  observed  his  visitor's  eyes 
still  riveted. upon  his  feet.  "You,  perhaps,  remember,"  he  con- 
tinued, "  where  you  bought  them,  Mr.  Mathews  j  for  I  really 


234  THE  LIFE  AND  COERESPONDENCE  OF 

shall  be  glad  to  get  a  pair  readily  ?"  No  reply  was  given  to 
this,  but  an  impatient  movement  of  said  feet  into  another  posi- 
tion. At  last,  pressed  to  account  for  the  manner  in  which  he 
procured  these  "  admirable  shoes,"  he  cast  his  own  eyes  upon 
them,  and,  to  his  surprise,  perceived  that  they  were  not  his  own, 
but,  as  the  gentleman  said,  a  "  very  peculiar  pair,"  and  much 
too  large  for  his  very  small  feet. 

The  truth  at  once  flashed  across  his  mind : — "  These  shoes, 
sir,  perhaps,  are  yours  ?"  The  owner  of  them,  for  such  he  was, 
bowed,  coloured,  and  said  :  "  Why,  Mr.  Mathews,  if  you'll  pardon 
my  thinking  so,  I  must  confess  I  beheve  them  to  be  mine.  I 
had  them  made  after  a  plan  of  my  own,  for  shooting-shoes,  and 
missed  them  this  morning  with  great  regret,  my  servant  bring- 
ing me  a  pair  much  too  small  for  me  ;  and  I  suspect  they  would 
better  fit  your  feet  than  mine."  The  matter  was  clear;  and  they 
both  laughed  heartily.  The  most  extraordinary  part  of  this 
unconscious  felony  was,  that  the  person  wearing  them  did  not 
perceive  the  bad  fit  of  the  shoes,  or  find  himself  inconvenienced 
with  their  weight,  for  the  soles  were  embossed  with  nails ! 

This  incident  amused  him  at  the  time ;  and  afterwards,  when- 
ever a  "  good  starer"  came  in  his  way,  the  recollection  of  it  had 
the  wholesome  effect  of  making  the  stared  at  think  of  the  stolen 
shoes,  and  sometimes  (if  not  on  a  performance  day)  smile,  in- 
stead of  expressing  annoyance,  at  any  partial  notice. 

Sanguine  as  he  was  with  regard  to  the  continuance  of  his 
popularity  in  his  Entertainments  at  this  early  period,  he  would 
have  proved  an  absolute  sceptic  had  any  one  assured  him  that 
his  reputation  and  success  would  proceed  increasingly  for  four- 
teen years  after,  and  then  only  cease — with  his  life ! 

Mr.  Mathews  had  for  some  time  past  set  his  heart  upon  pro- 
moting, by  a  public  subscription,  the  erection  of  a  monument  to 
Shakspeare  in  his  native  place ;  and  liis  present  visit  there  was 
chiefly  on  this  account. 

To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Stratford,  Dec.  19th,  1820. 
I  have  just  returned  from  the  Town  Hall.  Would  that  thou  eouldst 
have  seen  me !  Unprepared,  unarranged,  I  rushed  before  them :  I 
opened  my  plans,  my  proposals ;  and,  in  an  extempore  speech,  gained  the 
applauses  of  "Ladies  and  Gentlemen."  L' affaire  estfini.  Two  cler- 
gymen (one  of  them  Dr.  Davenport,  the  vicar)  joined  their  names  to 
mine  as  parties  concerned.  Subscriptions  were  immediately  offered,  a 
committee  formed,  and  the  town  half  on  fire  already.     Would  you  be- 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  235 

lleve  it,  the  first  propitious  circumstance  on  our  arrival,  the  first  thing 
we  heard,  was,  that  the  site  of  Shakspeare's  house,  New-place,  where  he 
died,  and  where  the  mulberry- tree  grew,  is  to  be  disposed  of?  I  have 
got  myself  into  a  notoriety  that  I  did  not  seek  or  expect.  I  was  voted 
treasurer  by  acclamation  ;  and,  when  the  meeting  was  over,  a  private 
communication  was  made  to  me  that  the  corporation  wished  to  bestow 
some  mark  of  their  favour  upon  me — would  I  like  the  freedom  ? — in 
short,  "  what  was  done  for  Garrick  ought  to  be  done  for  me."  I  de- 
clined all  notice  till  the  affair,  at  all  events,  was  completed. 

C.  Mathews. 

The  following  account  of  this  meeting  appeared  at  the 
time  : — 

Agreeably  to  the  suggestion  of  Mr.  Mathews,  a  meeting  of  the  inha- 
bitants of  Stratford-upon-Avon  was  held  at  the  Town  Hall,  on  the  19th 
of  December,  1820,  to  consider  of  the  best  mode  of  erecting,  in  the 
form  of  a  theatre,  a  national  monument  to  the  immortal  memory  of 
Shakspeare. 

Upon  tliis  occasion  Captain  Saunders  took  the  chair. 

Mr.  Mathews  stated,  at  considerable  length,  the  object  of  calling  the 
meeting.  It  had  long  been  a  subject  of  regret  to  the  literary  and  dra- 
matic world,  he  observed,  that  a  town  so  distinguished  as  the  birthplace 
of  Shakspeare  should  not  possess  some  token  of  national  respect  and 
gratitude  to  such  an  immortal  genius.  In  other  towns  similar  instances 
had  occurred  under  far  less  imperative  reasons.  On  the  Calton-hill, 
near  Edinburgh,  a  monument  had  been  erected  to  the  memory  of  Hume 
the  historian ;  at  Dumfries  a  mausoleum  had  been  raised  by  the  inha- 
bitants to  commemorate  their  poet  Burns.  But  the  only  tribute  worthy 
of  notice  to  the  memory  of  Shakspeare,  was  privately  erected  by  Garrick, 
in  his  own  garden  at  Hampton.  He  was  desirous  of  stating  that,  in 
coming  forward  on  the  present  occasion,  he  had  anything  but  interested 
views.  He  was  ready  to  go  hand  and  heart  into  the  business :  he  would 
apply  personally  to  all  he  knew  ;  he  would  even  endeavour,  through  the 
medium  of  those  most  distinguished  members  of  the  Royal  Family,  who 
had  ever  patronized  the  arts  in  general,  and,  above  all,  the  drama,  to 
lay  this  proposition  at  the  foot  of  the  throne ;  and  he  felt  the  fullest 
confidence  that  our  gracious  monarch  would  give  his  patronage  and 
purse  to  the  completion  of  this  object.  He  would,  moreover,  exert  what 
influence  he  possessed  with  every  man  of  rank  and  talent,  every  poet, 
artist,  and  sculptor,  whom  he  was  fortunate  enough  to  know,  to  aid  this 
important  undertaking.  He  particularly  impressed  on  their  minds 
that  he  did  not  wish  at  all  to  tax  any  person  against  his  inclination  or 
means.  It  would  be  the  proudest  boast  of  any  person's  life  to  say,  in 
after  times,  when  passing  by  this  building,  "  Ay,  I  had  a  hand  in  that." 
AH  this  he  left  entirely  to  their  own  ideas.  But,  above  all,  he  begged 
their  strenuous  and  united  exertions  in  a  cause  so  important  to  the 
literary  and  dramatic  character  of  the  whole  country. 


236  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

It  was  resolved  unanimously — 
That  Charles  Mathews,  Esq.,  be  hereby  appointed  president  and  trea- 
surer of  the  committees. 

It  was  further  resolved  unanimously — 

That  a  committee  of  management  in  London  be  formed  under  the 
direction  of  Mr.  Mathews,  who  shall  have  power  to  embody  the  same 
and  enlarge  it  ad  libitum. 

It  is  a  very  melancholy  fact  that  Mr.  Mathews  was  not  origi- 
nally altogether  lame  from  his  accident,  as  is  evident  from  the 
circumstance  of  his  notice  in  the  foregoing  letter  of  his  seven 
miles'  walk.  Had  he  been  satisfied  with  the  partial  cure  which 
had  been  effected,  it  would  have  been  a  great  blessing  to  him 
and  to  those  who  loved  him  ;  but  not  finding  his  natural  activity 
entirely  restored,  he  was  restless  and  anxious  about  it,  always 
believing  himself  so  nearly  well  as  to  feel  he  could  not  be  far 
removed  from  entire  recovery.  This  feeling  operated  so  con- 
stantly that  it  induced  many  experiments,  which  ultimately 
rendered  it  a  painful  effort  to  him  to  walk  only  a  few  yards. 

In  March  of  this  year  the  following  paragraph  appeared  in 
the  papers,  the  forerunner  of  many  of  a  similar  kind : — 

It  is  reported  that  a  gentleman  of  great  comic  celebrity  in  the 
theatrical  world  is  shortly  to  ascend  in  a  balloon.  Whether  the  object 
be  to  satisfy  a  curious  and  inquiring  mind — 

To  catch  the  manners  living  as  they  rise, 

we  know  not;  but  must  express  our  decided  disapprobation  of  such  a 
hazardous  undertaking ;  which  might  be  the  means  of  depriving  the 
public  of  the  gratification  always  received  from  his  unrivalled  talents. 
Should  this  meet  his  eye,  he  will  not  think  the  worse  of  us  for  the 
suggestion. 

In  explanation  of  this  report,  it  is  necessary  to  relate  that 
Mr.  Mathews  had  long  entertained  a  desire  to  ascend  in  a 
balloon,  and  falling  in  with  a  person  of  the  name  of  Livingstone, 
who  was  speculating  upon  sending  one  up  from  London,  Mr* 
Mathews  actually  promised,  under  pain  of  a  heavy  penalty  in 
case  of  failure,  to  go  up  with  him  in  the  spring  of  this  year. 
Upon  learning  this,  the  idea  immediately  occurred  to  the 
manager,  Mr.  Arnold,  that  such  an  event  would  give  a  pleasant 
and  popular  subject  and  title  to  the  next  entertainment ;  and 
consequently  every  preparation  was  made  in  reference  to  the 
expected  adventure  j  but  my  consent  was  wanting.     At  first  I 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  237 

had  only  faintly  opposed  what  I  really  conceived  to  be  an  inti- 
mation made  jestingly  ;  but,  unluckily,  this  apparent  indifference 
about  the  undertaking  induced  my  husband  thus  fearlessly  to 
bind  himself.  When,  however,  he  came  to  town,  and  declared 
his  serious  intention,  and  his  positive  agreement  with  Mr. 
Livingstone,  I  urged  him  to  give  up  the  project  at  any  loss,  for 
that  I  never  could  consent  to  what  seemed  to  me  so  hazardous 
an  experiment.  The  consequence  was  that  the  design,  after  a 
fruitless  struggle  to  conquer  my  objections,  was  reluctantly 
given  up,  and  the  fine  paid  (a  considerable  one),  for  the  owner 
of  the  balloon  had  great  expectations  of  profit  from  so  remark- 
able an  aeronaut. 


238  THE  LIFE  AND  COKRESPONDENCE  OF 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

Announcement  of  Mr.  Mathews's  Adventures  in  Air,  Earth,  and  Water — Account 
of  these  Adventures — Address  on  the  close  of  the  fourth  season  of  Mr. 
Mathews's  entertainments — Anecdotes  of  Mr.  Coleridge  and  Mr.  Charles 
Lamb — Letter  of  Mr.  Coleridge  to  Mr.  Mathews. 

The  relinquisliment  by  Mr.  Mathews  of  his  design  of  ascending 
in  a  balloon  greatly  disappointed  public  expectation,  and  frus- 
trated in  some  measure  the  arrangements  for  the  next  "  At 
Home."  The  proprietor  of  the  theatre,  therefore,  found  it  ex- 
pedient, in  the  form  of  advertisements,  to  follow  up  the  reports 
of  Mr.  Mathews's  intention  by  an  affected  and  playful  belief  of 
his  ascent.  Many  ingenious  intimations  were  to  be  seen,  in  the 
papers  and  elsewhere,  for  a  week  or  two  previously  to  the  re- 
opening of  the  English  Opera  House,  which  served  as  announce- 
ments of  his 

ADYENTUEES  IN  AIH,  EARTH,  AND  WATER. 
Found. — Me.  Mathews. 

Who  (having  been  out  of  his  element)  will  he  found  again  at  home 
(for  the  125th  time),  at  the  Theatre  Royal,  English  Opera  House, 
Strand,  this  present  Thursday,  March  15th,  1821,  when  it  is  respect- 
fully announced  that  he  will  have  the  honour  to  attempt  a  description 
of  his  Travels  in 

AIR,  EARTH,  AND  WATER! 

Paet  I. — AIR. — Ballooning. — Reasons  for  rising.— Professional 
Opinions. — Friends  in  a  Fever. — Mark  Mirabel,  the  Wonderer. — Senti- 
mental Reflections  on  Sailing. — Major  Longbow,  the  modern  Mun- 
chausen.— White  Lies. — Mr.  and  Mrs.  Guffin. — Mrs.  Damper,  a  Job's 
Comforter. — Inquisitive  Ladies. 

Song — Air  Ballooning. 

Lady's  Album. — Little  Extracts  from  great  Poets. — Autographs. — 
Monsieur  Arc  en  CieVs  Essay  on  Ballooning ! — Odd  Sensations  on 
quitting  Terra  Firma. — Putney  Bridge  and  Wandsworth  Common. — 
Patience  in  a  Punt. — Frightening  Fish. — Cockney  Sportsmen. 

Song — The  First  of  Sejptemher, 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  239 

Ke-ascent. — Munchausen  in  Nuhihus. — Telescopic  Observations.— i 
Chinese  Juggler. — Skein  of  Cotton  Thread. — View  of  Margate.-^ 
Speculations  on  Smoke. 

Song — Steam-Boat. 

Paet  II. — EARTH. — Margate  Pier. — Passengers  per  Steamer. 

Song — Dejeune  at  St.  Peters. 

Paul  Pinnacle,  the  Quality  Tag,  and  Cutter  of  Commons — his  System 
shown  up. 

Song — Migh  and  S/umble,  What  a  Jumble  ! 

Mr.  Mathews's  Code  of  Cuts. — Cut  Celestial,  Cut  Infernal,  Cut 
Collateral,  Cut  Retrospective,  and  Cut  Direct ! — Mr.  and  Mrs.  Capsi- 
cum.— Barnaby  Thwack,  the  Donkey-Driver. — Danger  of  Non-aspi- 
ration of  an  H. — Epitaphs  in  a  Churchyard  transplanted  to  an  Album. 
— Dissertation  on  Dress. — Lodgings  to  let. — Warm  Reception  in  Close 
Quarters. — An  Attorney's  Bill. — Catching  a  Native. — Tossing  in  a 
Carpet. — Daniel  O'Rourke — his  Dream — his  Visit  to  the  Man  in  the 
Moon. — Mr.  Chick-cherry-clap,  the  Margate  Librarian. 

Song — The  Margate  Library, 

Return  Home. — Finale. 

Part  III.— WATER.— -Mr.  Mathews  will  represent  the  Pleasures 
of  a  Sea- voyage  in 

THE    POLLY   PACKET.* 

Passengers  per  Polly  : — 

Mr.  Theophilus  Tulip,  a  novice  on  the  ocean. 

Mrs.  Tulip,  his  maternal  mamma. 

Monsieur  Jeu- Singe,  French  artist  in  dancing-dogs  and  monkeys. 

Isaac  Tabinet,  a  Jew  merchant. 

Major  Longbow,  )  ^^^onauts  on  their  return. 

Mr.  Mathews,      J 

Daniel  O'Rourke,  Steward  of  the  Polly, 

Invisible  Captain. 

Poultry  in  the  Hold. 

N.B. — As  three  of  the  elements  have  already  been  intruded  upon,  in 
order  that  the  fourth  may  not  feel  aggrieved,  it  is  necessary  to  state 
that  a  good  FIRE  is  constantly  kept  in  the  theatre. 

The  songs  will  be  accompanied  on  the  pianoforte  by  Mr.  E.  Knight 
(Pupil  to  Mr.  T.  Cooke),  who  will  perform  favourite  rondos  between 
the  parts. 

Of  these  Adventures,  the  following  account  is  worth  preserva- 
tion ; — 

•  Written  by  R.  B.  Peake,  Esci. 


240  THE  LIFE  AND  COKRESPONDENCE  OF 

About  the  middle  of  March  the  dead  walls  of  the  metropolis  dis- 
played to  the  wondering  gaze  of  passengers  the  following  placard,  in 
letters  of  enormous  size  : — 

"  lOOOZ.  Reward  !— Charles  Mathews,  Esq.  ! 

"  Whereas,  it  is  said,  that  the  above  gentleman,  actuated  by  a  strange 
propensity  for  rising  in  the  world,  left  his  home,  at  Highgate,  perpen- 
dicularly, on  Saturday,  in  a  balloon,  and  has  not  since  been  seen  or 
heard  of.  If  this  be  fact,  there  can  be  no  doubt  (from  his  known 
habits  of  punctuality)  that  he  will  be  *  At  Home'  at  the  English  Opera 
House  on  Thursday  next,  15th  March,  when  he  will  probably  give  the 
account  of  his  adventures  in  the  air,  &c. 

"  N.B. — If  he  will  return  to  his  disconsolate  friends  (the  public),  no 
questions  will  be  asked ;  and  he  will,  doubtless,  in  the  course  of  the 
season  receive  the  above  reward." 

Much  speculation  was  set  on  foot  by  the  appearance  of  this  adver- 
tisement, and  many  of  those  good,  easy,  well-meaning  persons,  who 
'  never  look  beyond  the'  surface  of  anything,  read  the  "  quiz"  in  solemn 
sadness,  commenting  very  profoundly  upon  the  folly  of  the  aeronaut  in 
{lius  endangering  his  precious  limbs.  The  theatre,  however,  was 
crowded  upon  the  appointed  evening,  and  Mr.  Mathews  delighted  the 
audience  with  a  novel  entertainment.  It  opens  with  the  descent  of 
Mathews  upon  the  stage  in  a  balloon ;  when,  taking  out  his  watch,  he 
remarks,  "  He  has,  luckily,  landed  at  the  English  Opera  House  just  at 
the  hour  appointed  for  commencing  the  performances."  He  then  gives 
his  reason  for  undertaking  the  aerial  excursion.  "  All  his  friends  had 
advised  him  to  relinquish  his  *  At  Home,*  assuring  him  that  it  was 
utterly  impossible  to  produce  any  novelty.  He,  however,  was  not  to 
be  persuaded ;  and  having  '  exhausted  worlds,'  determined  to  '  imagine 
new,'  by  the  assistance  of  a  balloon."  Various  personages  endeavour 
to  alter  his  resolution ;  and  the  arguments  they  make  use  of  are  detailed 
with  exquisite  humour.  Among  them  is  Mrs.  Damper,  a  "Job's  com- 
forter," who,  finding  him  resolved  to  persevere,  details  to  him  with 
great  exactness,  the  names  of  all  those  who  have  perished  by  falls  from 
balloons.  He  ascends ;  and,  after  meeting  with  sundry  adventures, 
finds  himself  upon  the  banks  of  the  Thames,  at  Wandsworth.  He  is 
here  joined  by  a  Major  Longbow,  a  modern  Munchausen,  whose  cha- 
racter is  the  tit-bit  of  the  entertainment,  and  is  certainly  conceived  and 
sustained  in  most  admirable  style.  It  surpasses  all  that  we  principally 
admired  in  the  preceding  entertainments  j  even  the  Old  Scotch  Lady 
is  not  more  humorous.  This  Major  is  everlastingly  boasting  of  his 
**  muscle,"  and  telling  outrageous  and  unblushing  falsehoods,  clenching 
every  one  with  the  exclamation,  "  Upon  my  life,  it's  true !  What'll 
you  lay  it's  a  lie?"  There  is  also  a  Monsieur  Arc  en  del,  who 
favours  the  company  with  a  very  learned  dissertation  on  ballooning. 
At  Wandsworth  the  party  meet  with  Patience  in  a  punt,  in  the  shape 
of  Mr.  Job  Twaddle,  formerly  an  eminent  hosier  in  Gutter-lane,  M^ho 
is  a  most  persevering  angler,  and  in  the  course  of  a  fortnight  had  the 
good  fortune  to  meet  with  one  nibble  and  one  bite  !    We  never  saw 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  241 

anything  more  laughable  and  true  to  nature  than  the  way  In  which 
Mathews  imitates  the  old  gentleman's  manner  of  examining  his  various 
lines,  and  his  desponding  shake  of  the  head  when  he  finds  he  is  not 
likely  to  meet  with  any  sport.  Mr.  Twaddle  is  a  decided  enemy  to 
steamboats,  and  upon  being  asked  "  Wherefore  ?"  replies,  "  They 
frighten  the  fish  !"  He  also  dislikes  bathing,  because  it  "  frightens  the 
fish!"  And  balloons  likewise,  for  the  same  reason.  Upon  this,  Xow^- 
how  says  : — "  I  advise  you,  sir,  never  to  show  your  face  in  the  water." 
"Why,  so  sir?" — "'Twill  I'righten  the  fish.  Upon  my  life  it's  true! 
What'll  you  lay  it's  a  lie  ?"  Certain  cockney  sportsmen  now  approach, 
and  a  long  burlesque  account  of  their  adventures  occurs.  Longhow 
and  Mathews  now  re-ascend,  and  the  Major  indulges  in  some  of  his 
usual  hyperboles,  when  the  travellers  arrive  in  sight  of  Margate ;  and 
the  sight  of  the  steam-packet  induces  a  very  happy  caricature  of  the 
humours  of  the  vessel,  in  mingled  recitation  and  singing.  They  then 
descend,  and  thus  finishes  the  first  part. 

Part  II.  commences  with  a  description  of  the  gaieties  of  Margate, 
and  a  dejeuner  at  St.  Peter's.  Several  of  the  visitors  pass  in  review  ; 
amongst  whom  is  a  notorious  dinner-hunter,  or  feaster  at  other  people's 
expense.  "  That  man  can  drink  a  great  deal ;  can't  he  ?"  says  some 
one.  "  Oh !  yes,  any  given  quantity,"  ife  the  reply.  After  him  come 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Capsicum,  vulgar  citizens,  and  Paul  Pinnacle,  a 
would-be  fashicmable,  who  spends  his  life  in  courting  the  society  of  great 
people,  and  thinks  more  about  the  House  of  Lords  than  he  does  of  the 
Lord's  house.  This  character  is  very  elaborately  described,  and  is  evi- 
dently drawn  from  life.  His  directions  for  "  cutting,"  though  the  idea 
is  not  new,  are  highly  diverting.  In  the  next  place,  Mathews  accom- 
panies to  the  churchyard  a  young  lady,  who  carries  a  magnificent 
album,  in  which  she  collects  autographs  and  epitaphs.  Of  the  former 
she  has,  among  others,  that  of  Sam  Swob,  the  steersman  of  the  steam- 
packet  ;  and  amongst  the  latter,  the  well-known  lamentation,  "  Aflflic- 
tions  sore  long  time  I  bore,"  &c.  She  also  has  "  An  Original  Poem,  by 
Lord  Byron,"  commencing,  "  My  name,  d'ye  see,  's  Tom  Tough,  and 
I've  see  a  little  sarvice ;"  and  some  verses  by  Eogers,  the  first  couplet 
of  which  is — 

"  I  am  a  brisk  and  sprightly  lad, 
Aad  just  come  home  from  sea,  sir  1" 

On  his  return  from  the  churchyard,  Mathews  meets  with  an  old 
acquaintance,  in  the  form  of  Daniel  OPowrke,  who  was  introduced  in 
the  "  Trip  to  Paris."  A  whimsical  detail  of  DanieVs  adventures  since 
that  period  follows ;  and  the  piece  terminates  with  the  picture  of  a 
Margate  library,  and  the  embarkation  on  board  the  packet  to  return  to 
London. 

Thus  far  all  has  been  mere  description ;  but,  in  the  third  part, 
Mathews  again  undertakes  that  rapid  assumption  of  characters,  in  which 
he  is  so  perfectly  unrivalled.  The  stage  represents  the  cabin  of  the 
packet,  with  the  berths,  holds,  &c.  In  the  first  place  he  enters  as 
Daniel  OPourke,  who  has  obtained  the  situation  of  steward  to  tha 


242  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

Polly  Packet.  After  rnuch  laughable  singing  and  soliloquizing,  the 
performer's  powers  of  ventriloquism  are  called  into  service,  and  the 
captain's  voice  is  heard  upon  deck,  calling  ^or  Daniel  to  "come  aloft. 
He  ascends,  and  in  a  moment  re-enters  as  Mrs.  Tulip,  a  lusty  sensitive 
dame,  who  expresses  much  disgust  at  the  inconvenience  of  the  packet, 
and  alarm  for  the  safety  of  her  darling  boy.  After  which  she  retires 
to  the  ladies'  apartment.  She  is  succeeded  by  Major  Longbow,  who, 
as  usual,  boasts  of  his  "  muscle !"  tells  the  accustomed  lies,  and  then 
descends  into  the  hold.  After  him  comes  Mons.  Jeu- Singe,  a  French- 
man, proprietor  of  an  establishment  for  dancing  dogs,  who  takes  refuge 
in  one  of  the  berths,  and  is  followed  by  Isaac  Tahinet,  a  Jewish 
smuggler,  by  whom  another  of  the  berths  is  occupied.  Master  Theo- 
philus  Tulip,  an  overgrown  spoiled  urchin,  now  appears,  crying  loudly 
for  his  "  mamma,"  and  labouring  under  the  horrors  of  sea-sickness.  He 
also  seeks  a  cot ;  and  has  scarcely  laid  himself  down,  when  Longbow 
reascends  from  the  hold.  His  "  muscle,"  however,  has  failed  him  ;  his 
stomach,  like  Stephanos,  is  "not  constant,"  and  he  is  fain  to  have  re- 
course to  his  nightcap  and  pillow.  Lastly,  Mathews  enters  in  his  own 
person,  rallies  the  Major  upon  his  fresh-water  sickness,  and  ter- 
minates his  entertainment  with  a  brief  address  of  thanks  to  the 
audience. 

We  will  not  pretend  to  say  that  the  two  first  parts  surpass  those  of 
former  seasons,  because  we  think  the  wit  of  those  performances  cannot 
well  be  exceeded ;  but  we  assert,  without  reserve,  that  the  concluding 
part  is  much  more  admirable  than  that  of  the  preceding  year. 

Mr.  Mathews  closed  the  fourth  season  of  his  entertainment 
on  the  14th  of  June.  It  maintained  its  wonted  attraction  even 
to  the  close,  the  house  not  only  being  well  but  fashionably- 
attended.  At  the  termination  of  the  night's  performance  Mr. 
Mathews  delivered  the  following  farewell  address  : — 

"  Ladies  and  Gentlemen, — It  has  been  said,  and  I  believe  truly,  that 
every  man,  however  gifted  with  talents  and  enlightened  by  learning,  has 
some  point  in  his  character  open  to  the  attacks  of  flattery,  and  ac- 
cessible to  the  assaults  of  vanity.  To  partake  of  this  weakness,  there- 
fore, in  common  with  the  clever  and  the  wise,  can  scarcely  reflect 
disgrace  upon  any  one.  Be  this  as  it  may,  I  freely  acknowledge 
myself,  albeit  neither  learned  nor  wise,  to  be  in  the  highest  degree  vain, 
and  to  the  greatest  extent  susceptible  of  flattery.  The  flattery  of  which 
I  speak  is  your  undiminished  approbation  and  applause;  and  the  vanity 
which  I  think  so  excusable  as  to  make  it  my  boast  arises  from  the 
belief,  that  no  man  by  his  own  single  exertions  ever  was  so  fortunate 
as  to  excite  the  public  notice  and  attention  for  so  long  a  period  as  I 
have  had  the  happiness  of  exciting  yours.  This  evening  will  close  the 
hundred  and  sixtieth  performance !  in  which  I  have  alone  stood  before 
you.  I  may  therefore  with  truth  assert,  what  few  individuals  can 
assert  so  truly,  that  I  have  passed  a  hundred  and  sixty  evenings  with 
anmixed  pleasure  j  for  I  have  seen  nothing  around  me  but  cheerful 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  243 

happy  faces.  If  this  world  be  indeed,  as  we  are  told  it  is,  a  world  of 
trouble  and  care,  how  gratified  should  he  feel,  who  (for  a  few  hours  at 
least)  can  banish  those  demons  from  the  hearts  of  his  friends  !  Be- 
lieving, as  my  vanity  (pardonable  vanity,  I  trust,)  induces  me  to  believe, 
that  I  have  been  the  happy  means  of  accomplishing  this  desirable  end, 
I  confess,  my  gratification  will  be  unbounded  and  complete,  provided 
you  allow  me  the  pleasure  of  anticipating  as  cheerful  a  meeting  next 
year ;  and,  in  the  mean  time  accept,  with  gracious  kindness,  my  heart- 
felt thanks  and  most  respectful  farewell  !'* 

Our  personal  knowledge  of  Mr.  Coleridge  commenced  in  the 
autumn  of  the  year  1819,  after  our  arrival  in  Kentish  Town 
(or,  more  properly,  Highgate  Hill),  when  he  kindly  claimed  our 
acquaintance  in  the  quality  of  neighbour. 

Many,  many  delightful  hours  did  Mr.  Coleridge's  splendid 
conversation  give  us  and  our  friends.  From  his  kind-heartedness, 
his  beautiful  simplicity  of  manner  (for  his  familiar  thoughts  and 
expressions  were  as  admirable  as  the  higher  attributes  of  his 
vast  mind)  we  really  loved,  as  much  as  we  admired  him.  My 
flower-garden  proved  a  very  great  attraction  to  him,  and  he 
visited  it  very  often,  being  passionately  fond  of  flowers.  As  he 
went  he  gathered  them  till  his  hands  were  full,  repaying  me  for 
these  floral  treasures  with  the  costly  gems  which  fell  from  his 
mouth,  as  the  pearls  and  diamonds  were  said  to  have  poured 
from  the  lips  of  the  good  fairy,  in  the  child's  tale.  He  doted 
upon  flowers,  and  discoursed  so  poetically  upon  them,  that  I 
frequently  regretted  my  want  of  power  to  preserve  the  many- 
coloured  beauties  of  his  observations.  He  was  so  kind,  too, 
whenever  kindness  was  valuable.  In  illness  his  manner  partook 
of  the  tender  compassion  of  a  woman ;  his  pity  was  almost 
feminine.  I  remember  on  one  occasion,  after  a  long  confinement, 
his  coming  down  the  hill,  one  stormy  and  severe  winter's  night, 
to  cheer  me  with  an  entertaining  book — some  periodical  just 
published — and  sitting  with  me  and  a  friend  who  resided  with 
me,  in  my  dressing-room,  reading  and  commenting  upon  what 
he  read,  until  I  forgot  my  indisposition.  Indeed,  1  do  not  know 
whether  he  was  not  a  more  charming  companion  when  he 
stooped  his  magnificent  mind  to  the  understanding  of  the  less 
informed  and  little  gifted  than  when  he  conversed  with  higher 
intellects.  It  is  perhaps  too  bold  an  assertion,  yet  I  will  venture 
to  say  that  he  was  not  less  delightful  by  such  condescensions  of 
his  genius,  or  less  esteemed  for  them.  He  was  accordingly 
attached  to  my  husband,  always  writing  and  speaking  of  him  as 
*'  dear  Mathews,"  and  he  was  equally  partial  to  Charles, 

e2 


24i4i  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

The  simplicity  of  Mr.  Coleridge's  character  on  familiar  occa- 
sions gave  us  infinite  amusement,  which,  on  his  perceiving  it,  he 
allowed,  with  a  smile  against  himself,  while  some  charming 
remark  would  increase  our  enjoyment,  and  he  would  leave  us 
Xvith  his  benevolent  features  beaming  with  good-humour  and 
kindness.  One  invariable  result  of  his  earnestly  engaging  in  a 
long  subject  of  discourse  was  a  total  abstraction  of  mind  suc- 
ceeding to  it.  In  our  drawing-room  we  had  placed  a  large 
mirror,  which  reached  from  the  ceiling  to  the  floor,  so  inserted 
(without  any  visible  frame)  as  to  seem  a  continuation  of  the 
apartment.  On  taking  leave,  morning  or  night,  he  generally 
made  an  effort  to  pass  through  this  glass ;  and  it  was  our  custom 
always  to  watch  his  first  movement  of  departure,  in  order  to  be 
ready  to  guard  against  the  consequences  of  an  attempt  to  make 
bis  way  out  through  this  palpable  impediment,  and  guide  him 
to  the  door.  To  all  this  he  would  submit,  talking  and  laughing 
upon  the  point  which  prevented  his  knowledge  of  outward 
things,  until  the  entrance-gate  was  closed  upon  him. 
'  During  the  first  part  of  our  acquaintance  with  him,  Mr.  Cole- 
ridge talked  much  to  us  of  his  friend  "  Charles  Lamb,"  and 
expressed  a  strong  desire  that  we  should  know  him.  His  affec- 
tionate manner,  when  speaking  of  Mr.  Lamb,  interested  us  as 
much  for  the  man  as  for  the  writer,  whose  published  works  we 
had  read ;  and  it  was  at  last  arranged  that  we  should  dine  on 
the  5th  of  May  in  this  year,  at  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gilman's  (the 
intellectual  and  excellent  friends  with  whom  Mr.  Coleridge 
resided),  in  order  to  meet  this  charming  person  and  his  amiable 
sister. 

On  our  reaching  Mr.  Gilman's  house,  we  found  Mr.  Coleridge 
anxiously  waiting  for  Lamb's  arrival,  and  as  anxious  that  Mr. 
Mathews  should  be  pleased  with  his  friend.  Two  notes  by 
*'  Elia"  were  shown,  which  Mr.  Mathews  begged,  as  additions  to 
his  collection  of  autographs  of  distinguished  persons.  The  first 
was  addressed  to  Mr.  Coleridge,  in  reply  to  his  invitation  for  the 
day  in  question.  These  notes  are  too  characteristic  of  the  writer 
to  be  withheld.* 

*  In  a  volume  of  Mr.  Coleridge's  letters  published  after  his  death,  one, 
dated  the  3rd  of  May,  mentions  this  particular  occasion  in  the  following 
words : — "  We  have  a  party  to-morrow,  in  which,  because  we  believed  it  would 
interest  you,  you  stood  included.  In  addition  to  a  neighbour,  Robert  Sutton, 
and  ourselves,  there  will  be  the  Mathews  (Mr.  and  Mrs.)  j  'At  Home'  Mathews, 
I  mean,  and  Charles  and  Mary  Lamb." 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  245 

May  1st. 

To  8.  T,  Coleridge,  Esq, 

Mr.  Gilman's,  Highgate. 
D'.  C. — I  will   not  fail  you  on  Friday  by  six,  and  Mary,  perhaps, 
earlier.     I  very  much  wish  to  meet  "Master  Mathew,"  and  am  much 
obliged  to  the  G — s  for  the  opportunity.     Our  kind  respects  to  them. 
Always,  Elia. 

Extract  from  a  MS.  note  of  S.  T.  C.  in  my  Beaumont  and  Fletchei*, 
dated  April  17^  1807. 

Midnight. 

"  God  bless  you,  dear  Charles  Lamb,  I  am  dying ;  I  feel  I  have  not 
many  weeks  left." 

The  second  note  was  addressed — 

To  J.  Oilman,  Esq. 

Surgeon,  Highgate. 
Dear  Sir, — ^You  dine  so  late  on  Friday,  it  will  be  impossible  for  us  to 
go  home  by  the  eight  o'clock  stage.  Will  you  oblige  us  by  securing 
us  beds  at  some  house  from  which  a  stage  goes  to  the  Bank  in  the 
morning  ?  I  would  write  to  Coleridge,  but  cannot  think  of  troubling  a 
dying  man  with  such  a  request. 

Yours  truly,  C.  Lamb. 

If  the  beds  in  the  town  are  all  engaged,  in  consequence  of  Mr. 
Mathews's  appearance,  a  hackney-coach  will  serve. 
WednesJ'  2  May,  '21. 

We  shall  neither  of  us  come  much  before  the  time. 

My  husband,  who  was  punctuality  itself,  and  all  the  little 
party,  except  the  "  Elia"  and  his  sister,  were  assembled.  At 
last  Mr.  and  Miss  Lamb  appeared,  and  Mr.  Coleridge  led  his 
friend  up  to  my  husband  with  a  look  which  seemed  to  say,  "  I 
pray  you,  like  this  fellow."  Mr.  Lamb's  first  approach  was  not 
prepossessing.  His  figure  was  small  and  mean  ;  and  no  man  cer* 
tainly  was  ever  less  beholden  to  his  tailor.  His  "  bran"  new  suit 
of  black  cloth  (in  which  he  affected  several  times  during  the  day 
to  take  great  pride,  and  to  cherish  as  a  novelty  that  he  had  long 
looked  for  and  wanted)  was  drolly  contrasted  with  his  very 
rusty  silk  stockings,  shown  from  his  knees,  and  his  much  too 
large  thick  shoes,  without  polish.  His  shirt  rejoiced  in  a  wide 
ill-plaited  frill,  and  his  very  small,  tight  white  neckcloth  was 
hemmed  to  a  fine  point  at  the  ends  that  formed  part  of  the 
little  bow.  His  hair  was  black  and  sleek,  but  not  formal,  and 
his  face  the  gravest  I  ever  saw,  but  indicating  great  intellect, 


246  THE  LIFE  AND  COERESPONDENCE  OF 

and  resembling  very  much  the  portraits  of  King  Charles  I. 
Mr.  Coleridge  was  very  anxious  about  his  pet  Lamb's  first  im- 
pression upon  my  husband,  which  I  believe  his  friend  saw ;  and 
guessing  that  he  had  been  extolled,  he  mischievously  resolved  to 
thwart  his  panegyrist,  disappoint  the  strangers,  and  altogether 
to  upset  the  suspected  plan  of  showing  him  ofi*.  The  lamb,  in 
fact,  would  not  consent  to  be  made  a  lion  of,  and  it  followed 
.that  he  became  puerile  and  annoying  all  the  day,  to  Mr.  Cole- 
ridge's visible  mortification.  Before  dinner  he  was  suspicious 
and  silent,  as  if  he  was  taking  measure  of  the  man  he  came  to 
meet,  and  about  whom  he  seemed  very  curious.  Dinner,  how- 
ever, opened  his  lips  for  more  than  one  purpose ;  and  the  first 
glass  of  wine  set  his  spirit  free,  and  he  became  quite  impracti- 
cable. He  made  the  most  absurd  puns  and  ridiculous  jokes,  and 
almost  harassed  Coleridge  out  of  his  self-complacency,  though 
he  managed  to  maintain  a  tolerable  degree  of  evenness  with  his 
tormentor,  now  and  then  only  rebuking  him  mildly  for  what 
he  termed  "  such  unworthy  trifling."  This  only  served  to 
exasperate  the  perverse  humour  of  him  it  was  intended  to 
subdue  ;  and  once  Mr.  Coleridge  exclaimed  meekly,  after  some 
very  bad  joke,  "  Charles  Lamb,  I'm  ashamed  of  you !" — a  re- 
proof which  produced  only  an  impatient  "  You  be  hanged !" 
from  the  reproved,  and  another  jest,  "  more  potent  than  the 
former,"  was  superadded  to  his  punning  enormities. 

Mr.  Lamb's  last  fire,  however,  was  at  length  expended,  and 
Mr.  Coleridge  took  advantage  of  a  pause  to  introduce  some  topic 
that  might  divert  the  party  from  his  friend's  determined  foolery. 
He  chose  a  subject  which  he  deemed  unlikely,  if  not  impossible, 
for  Lamb  to  interrupt  with  a  jest.  Mr.  Coleridge  stated  that 
he  had  originally  been  intended  for  the  pulpit,  and  had  taken 
orders — nay,  had  actually  preached  several  times.  At  this 
moment,  fancying  he  saw  something  in  Lamb's  face  that  denoted 
a  lucid  interval,  and  wishing  to  turn  him  back  from  the  nonsense 
which  had  so  "  spoiled  the  pleasure  of  the  time,"  with  a  desire 
also  to  conciliate  the  "  pouting  boy,"  as  he  seemed  (who,  to  our 
observation,  was  only  waiting  for  an  opportunity  to  revenge 
himself  upon  his  friend  for  all  the  grave  checks  he  had  given 
to  his  jocular  vein  during  dinner),  Coleridge  turned  benignly 
towards  him,  and  observed — "  Charles  Lamb,  I  believe  you 
never  heard  me  preach?"  As  if  concentrating  his  pent-up  re- 
sentment and  pique  into  one  focus,  and  with  less  of  his  wonted 
hesitation,  Lamb  replied,  with  great  emphasis,  "  I  ne-ever  heard 
you  do  anything  else!" 


ted   I 

ard   1 

m 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  247 

Our  first  day  with  the  amiable  "Elia"  was  certainly  unlucky. 
We  knew  him,  however,  better  in  after-time,  and  coveted  and 
loved  his  society  as  much  as  everybody  did  who  had  time  given 
them  to  know  him ;  but  he  "  would  have  his  humour." 

One  day  Mr.  Lamb  told  us  the  following  story  of  himself: — 
He  was  at  one  part  of  his  life  ordered  to  the  sea-side  for  the 
benefit  of  bathing;  but  not  possessing  strength  of  nerve  suf- 
ficient to  throw  himself  into  the  water,  he  necessarily  yielded 
his  small  person  up  to  the  discretion  of  two  men  to  "  plunge 
him."  On  the  first  morning,  having  prepared  for  immersion, 
he  placed  himself,  not  without  trepidation,  between  these  huge 
creatures,  meaning  to  give  the  previously  requisite  instructions 
which  his  particular  case  required  ;  but,  from  the  very  agitated 
state  he  was  in,  from  terror  of  what  he  might  possibly  "  suffer" 
from  a  "  sea-change,"  his  unfortunate  impediment  of  speech 
became  greater  than  usual ;  and  this  infirmity  prevented  his 
directions  being  as  prompt  as  was  necessary.  Standing,  there- 
fore, with  a  man  at  either  elbow,  he  began :  "  I — I — I'm  to  be 
di — i — ipped — "  The  men  answered  the  instruction  with  a 
ready  "  Yes,  sir !"  and  in  they  soused  him !  As  soon  as  he 
rose,  and  could  regain  a  portion  of  his  lost  breath,  he  stam- 
mered out  as  before,  "  I — I — I — I'm  to  be  di — i — ipped — " 
Another  hearty  "Yes,  sir!"  and  down  he  went  a  second  time. 
Again  he  rose ;  and  then  with  a  struggle  (to  which  the  men 
were  too  much  used  on  such  occasions  to  heed),  he  made  an 
effort  for  freedom ;  but  not  succeeding,  he  articulated  as  at  first, 
"I — I — I'm  to  be  di — i — ipped — "  "Yes,  sir!"  and  to  the  bottom 
he  went  again,  when  Lamb,  rising  for  the  third  time  to  the 
sui'face,  shouted  out  in  desperate  energy,  "  0 — O — only  once  !" 

To  Mr.  Mathews. 

Extempore  on  rising  from  my  seat  at  the  close  of  "  At  Home,"  on 
Saturday  night : — 

If,  in  whatever  decks  this  earthly  ball, 
'Tis  still  great  Mother  Nature — one  in  all! 
Hence  Mathews  needs  must  be  her  genuine  son, 
A  second  Nature,  that  acts  all  in  one. 

S.  T.  COLBRIDGE. 

I  have  been  reducing  a  few  thoughts  of  my  own,  excited  by  my 
Saturday  night's  feast,  to  some  sort  of  shape  in  my  own  mind ;  and,  if 
I  should  find  courage  enough  to  transfer  them  to  paper  for  your 
perusal,  my  principal,  if  not  my  sole  object  will  be  to  rectify,  or  to 
confirm  my  own  judgment,  by  bringing  it  into  contact  with  the  touch- 
stone of  your  observation  and  experience.     I  have  seen  enough  of  man- 


248  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

kind  to  feel  little  apprehension  of  offending  you  by  sincerit3%  for  men 
are  tolerant  of  blame  in  proportion  as  they  are  secure  of  admiration ; 
even  if  I  had,  as  is  not  the  case,  found  anything  in  your  performance 
to  be  censured.  But  I  am  not  equally  confident,  that  in  some  of  my 
notices,  as  to  the  order  of  excellence  in  the  different  parts  of  the  per- 
formance, considered  independent  of  yourself,  and  even  exclusive  (and, 
permit  me  to  say,  without  suspicion  of  flattery,  that  this  excludes  the 
very  finest  parts  of  the  "  At  Home),  I  might  not  offend  others,  and 
even  give  you  pain  as  their  friend. 

I  must  therefore  bargain,  that,  as  I  shall  submit  what  I  wrote  to  no 
eye  but  yours,  so  you  will  consider  the  same  in  the  light  of  a  tete-a-tete 
conversation,  having  this  particular  advantage,  that  you  may  listen  to 
it  just  at  your  leisure,  or  not  at  all.  Be  assured  that  I  shall  have 
strangely  perverted  and  misrepresented  my  own  mind  and  feelings,  if 
you  do  not  recognise  in  my  remarks  the  unfeigned  admiration  and  re- 
gard with  which  I  am. 

Dear  sir,  your  obliged  S.  T.  Coleridge.* 

My  best  respects  to  Mrs.  Mathews  and  to  your  son. 

*  The  remarks  alluded  to  in  the  above  letter,  I  regret  to  say,  I  have  not 
been  able  to  find. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  249 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

Mr.  Mathews's  fondness  for  the  society  of  foreigners —Naldi,  Ambrogetti — A 
new  "At  Home" — Mr.  Mathews's  performance  in  aid  of  a  subscription  for 
the  Irish  Peasants — Letter  from  Mr.  J.  Wilson  Ci'oker;  portrait  of  Mrs. 
Clive — Mr.  Mathews's  regret  at  his  compact  with  Mr.  Arnold — Causes  of 
the  nervous  excitability  of  Mr.  Mathewg — Proposed  engagement  with  Mr. 
Price  in  America — Stipulations  with  Mr.  Arnold — Mr.  Mathews's  address  on 
taking  leave  of  the  London  public — Letters  to  Mr.  Mathews  from  Mr. 
Elliston  and  Mr.  Macready — Mr.  Mathews's  performance  at  Carlton  House 
— rConversation  with  the  King — His  Majesty's  anecdote  of  Mr.  Kemble — 
Royal  munificence. 

Mr  husband  was  exceedingly  fond  of  the  society  of  foreigners ; 
and  it  was  noticeable  that  they  were  all  great  admirers  of  him, 
in  public  and  in  private  life  ;  they  really  loved  him.  Naldi  was 
particularly  fond  of  his  society ;  and,  though  he  understood 
English  imperfectly,  seemed  always  to  comprehend  all  he  said. 
"We  were  very  intimate  with  Signor  Naldi,  who  invariably  ad. 
dressed  my  husband,  "  Dear  Mat-hew !"  Naldi  liked  to  talk 
English,  and  was  always  encouraged  in  this  liking  by  his  friend, 
who  never  failed,  by  his  management,  to  elicit  something 
amusing  from  the  practice.  The  Prince  llegent  had  made  him 
a  present  of  a  snuff-box,  in  consequence  of  his  singing  before  him 
on  some  occasion.  Naldi,  who  was  a  refined  gentleman  in  all 
his  ideas,  was  gratified  at  this  mode  of  receiving  compensation, 
and  wished  Mr.  Mathews  to  understand  that  he  was  better 
pleased  with  the  present  of  the  snuff-box  (on  the  lid  of  which 
appeared  the  royal  donor's  portrait)  than  he  should  have  been 
had  the  Prince  given  him  a  thousand  pounds  !  This  sentiment 
he  conveyed  to  my  husband  the  next  time  they  met,  in  his  own 
peculiar  way — "  See,  dear  Mat-hew,  dees  boox,  presente  me  from 
de  Kegent  Prince !  If  I  am  a  tousand  pounds  I  was  not  so 
proud  as  dees  boox  !" 

Ambrogetti's  love  and  admiration  had  all  the  character  of 
infantine  regard,  and  used  to  show  itself  most  amusingly.  His 
English  was  even  worse  (or  better)  than  Naldi's,  for  he  had  not 


250  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

mixed  so  much  in  English  society  as  Naldi  had  done,  neither 
had  he  been  so  long  in  this  country.  One  night,  at  a  supper- 
table,  Ambrogetti  was  seated  next  my  husband,  who  was  much 
diverted  with  his  ardent  admirer,  and  the  childish  delight  he 
exhibited  at  all  Mr.  Mathews  said  or  did.  My  husband  took 
pleasure  in  exciting  his  droll  expressions,  and  was  surprising  him 
with  all  sorts  of  things.  At  last,  Ambrogetti,  wrought  up  to 
the  climax  of  his  wonder,  having  previously  exhausted  every 
known  word  with  which  he  could  express  his  rapture,  cried  out, 
in  a  transport  of  delight,  embracing  him  at  the  same  moment, 
"  O,  Mat-hew!  you  are  my  sweetheart  /" 

In  March,  1822,  Mr.  Mathews  reappeared  at  the  EngUsh 
Opera  House,  for  the  fifth  season  of  his  "  At  Home/'  in  a  new 
entertainment. 

ME.  MATHEWS  AT  HOME 
at  the  Theatre  Eoyal,  English  Opera  House,  Strand,    on  Mondays, 
Thursdays,  and  Saturdays,  during  March,  1822,  with  his  annual  lecture 
on  Character,  Manners,  and  Peculiarities,  under  the  title  of       * 

THE  YOUTHFUL.DAYS  OF  MR.  MATHEWS. 

Paet  I. — From  nothing  to  the  age  of  an  hour  and  a  quarter. — 
"  First  the  infant,"  &c.— Parentage. — rChildhood. — From  One  to  Ten. 
— '*  Then  the  schoolboy  with  shining  morning  face." — Preparatory 
Seminar3^ — Merchant  Tailors'  School. — PubHc  Speeches. — Latin,  Greek, 
and  English  Orations. — Dramatic  Mania  of  Master  Charles  Mathews. 
•—Parental  Objections. 

Song— 2V«6?e  Choosing. 

From  Ten  to  Fifteen.— Boxmdi  Apprentice,  Wil'KES,  Chamberlain  of 
London. — First  attempt  as  an  Actor  in  Public. — Fencing. — Interview 
with  Macklin  ;  the  Veteran's  opinion  of  the  qualifications  of  a  Tra- 
gedian.— Elopement  from  Home. — Fat  Traveller. — Ap  Llywelyn  ap 
Llwyd,  Esq. — Mineral  Waters. — Stratford  upon  Avon. — -Shakspeare's 
Tomb. 

Song — Marhet  Day. 

Engaged  for  the  Dublin  Theatre. — Careful  Carter. — Ingenious 
Porter. — First  Appearance  in  Ireland. — Splendid  Wardrobe. — Mr. 
Mathers  rufiled. — Old  Huest.— Cox's  Bull. — Dicky  Suett's  Letter 
of  Eecommendation. — Hibernian  Friends,  &c.  &c.  &c. 

Song — An  Irish  JRuhher  at  Whist. 

Part  II. — Dublin  Company. — George  Augustus  Fipley,  of  the  Line 
of  Beauty. — Mr.  Trombone. — O'Flanagan. — Geoege  Feedeeick 
Cooke. — Port  Arms. 

Song — Volunteer  Field-day  and  Sham  Fight. 
Mr.  CuEEAN  {a  portrait). 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  251 

Real  Irish  Ballad — Croosheen  Lawn. 

Leave  Dublin. — Visit  Wales.-^Mr.  Mathews  engaged  for  the  York 
Circuit. — Interview  with  Tate  Wilkinson,  Esq.,  the  wandering  Pa- 
tentee.— Buckle-brushing  (Garrick's  buckles). 

Mr.  Mathews's  Mr.  Wilkinson's  Mr.  Garrick's  Richard. 

Tate's  Antipathies  : — Rats  ;  Cross  Letters. — York  Roscius. — Over- 
ture from  London. — Mr.  Mark  Magnum. — "  All  that  sort  of  thing," 
and  "  Everything  in  the  world." — Arrival  in  the  Metropolis. 

Song — London  Green  Rooms, 

Pabt  III. — Stories  :  in  which  Mr.  Mathews  will  take  steps  to  intro- 
duce the  following  characters  : — 

Nat,  Servant  of  All-work  in  a  Lodging-house. 

Sir  Shiverum  Screwnerve,  Guardian  to  Amelrosa — {second  jioor). 

Monsieur  Zephyr,  French  Ballet  Master — {first  Jloor). 

George  Augustus  Fipley,  "A  Line  of  Beauty," — in  love. 

Ap  Llywelyn  ap  Llwyd,  Esq.,  Not  Thin  Enough. 

Mr.  Mark  Magnum,  non  compos  Lodger  {next  door). 

Miss  Amelrosa,  in  love  with  Fipley. 

The  songs  will  be  accompanied  on  the  piano-forte  by  Mr.  E.  Knight, 
who  will  play  favourite  rondos  between  the  parts. 

Mr.  Mathews  gave  his  performance  at  the  English  Opera 
House  on  the  21st  May,  for  the  purpose  of  aiding  the  subscrip- 
tion for  the  Irish  suHerers.  In  the  course  of  the  evening,  in 
that  portion  of  the  entertainment  where  he  is  enlarging  on  Irish 
anecdote,  he  thus  addressed  the  audience : — 

"  While  upon  the  subject  of  Ireland,  I  am  under  the  necessity  of  re- 
gretting that  my  humble  endeavour  in .  giving  my  entertainments  in 
aid  of  the  liberal  subscription  for  the.  disti'essed  peasantry  of  that 
country,  should  not  have  proved  to  ni}'  feeling  quite  successful.  I  wish 
that  there  had  been  a  fuller  audience  than  I  had  ever  seen  at  my  nights 
*At  Home.'  I  should  have  sincerely  desired,  that  it  had  been  the  best 
house,  instead  of  the  worst,  during  the  many  evenings  I  have  had  the 
honour  of  making  you  merry  here.  I  am  convinced  that  the  public 
will  take  the  will  for  the  deed ;  and  it  gives  me  some  gratification,  that 
though  the  numbers  of  the  audience  have  unfortunately  decreased,  the 
laughter  has  not  in  proportion  diminished." 

The  following  letter  was  written  by  Mr.  Crolcer*  a  few  days 

*  The  Right  Honourable  John  Wilson  Croker,  statesman,  poet,  and 
quarterly  reviewer,  born  1780 ;  educated  at  Dublin  University,  for  which,  and 
originally  for  Downpatrick,  he  sat  as  Member  of  Parliament.  He  was  one  of 
the  earliest  writers  in  the  "Quarterly  Review,"  a  periodical  to  which  he  con- 
tinued to  contribute  to  his  death.  He  was  a  bigoted  Tory,  a  violent  partisan, 
and  a  most  malevolent  and  unscrupulous  critic.  He  died  at  his  seat  at  West 
Molesey,  in  1857. 


252  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

after  a  visit  to  our  cottage.  He  was  kind  enough,  with  many 
others,  to  interest  himself  in  my  husband's  hobby.  Soon  after 
this  intimation,  Mr.  Mathews  discovered  and  bought  the  paint- 
ing, by  Hogarth,  of  Mrs.  Olive,  in  the  "  Fine  Lady  in  Lethe," 
now  in  his  collection  at  the  Garrick  Club : — 

To  C.  Mathews,  Esq. 

Meluny,  May  22nd,  1822. 
Dear  Sir — You  may  be  glad  to  know  that  my  recollection  was  cor- 
rect, and  that  there  is  a  portrait  of  Mrs.  dive  at  Strawberry  Hill,  by 
Davidson.  There  is  also  another  in  water-colours,  of  her,  as  "  the  fine 
lady  in  Lethe."  Perhaps  this  latter  is  the  original  of  your  engraving. 
I  presume  that  the  portrait  by  Davidson  must  have  been  like,  or  her 
friend,  Mr.  Walpole,  would  hardly  have  preserved  it. 

I  am,  dear  sir,  your  faithful  humble  servant,       J.  W.  Ceokee. 

The  uniform  results  of  this  seasoir's  "At  Home"  proved  that 
Mr.  Mathews's  name  was  rising  with  each  fresh  occasion  ;  yet 
he  was  not  satisfied ;  so  tender  was  his  conscience,  that  he 
alwa^^s  regarded  his  precipitancy  in  the  compact  with  Mr. 
Arnold  as  a  crime  against  his  family.  It  certainly  was  a  great 
mistake,  and  so  far  a  culpable  error  that  he  proceeded  in  the 
business  without  the  knowledge  of  his  best  friends,  who  knew 
his  merits  too  well  to  have  estimated  them  at  his  own  modest 
price.  This  mistake  was,  however,  like  every  other  he  committed, 
the  result  of  an  ardent  temperament,  relying  more  upon  others 
than  himself ;  quick,  confiding,  and  sudden  in  his  resolves, 
sincere  and  liberal  in  his  own  motives,  he  was  trusting,  to  a 
weakness,  in  those  of  others.  Yet,  in  looking  back  upon  the 
numerous  instances  of  this  generous  infirmity  (which,  I  own 
with  deep  compunction,  too  much  annoyed  me  at  the  time),  it  is 
no  small  consolation  to  me,  after  more  than  two  years'*  constant 
investigation  of  his  character  and  conduct,  to  be  unable  to 
detect  in  his  whole  life  a  single  blot  upon  his  integrity,  or  any 
defect  beyond  what  may  be  called  a  foible  in  his  disposition.  In 
relation  to  that  well-known,  and  too  much  dwelt  upon,  "  irrita- 
bihty"  of  temperament,  which  his  death  too  well  accounted  for 
and  excused,  it  may  be  said  that,  with  every  outward  appearance 
of  good,  nay,  robust  health  (after  his  twenty-fitth  year,  till 
which  period  he  had  every  symptom  of  a  consumptive  habit), 
and  with  really  a  powerful  frame,  he  was  in  a  state  of  almost 
contmuous  bodily  suffering  from  one  cause  or  another,  for  the 
most  ][.art  inexplicable  to  medical  men.     In  winter  his  rest  was 

*  These  pages  were  ■written  in  the  autumn  of  1837. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  253 

painfully  disturbed  at  night  by  an  irritation  on  the  skin,  though 
without  eruption,  which  allowed  him  no  sleep  for  weeks  together 
during  a  frost ;  he  also  suffered  from  a  mysterious  disorder  in 
his  tongue,  which  for  years  equally  puzzled  the  faculty,  and 
which,  with  all  their  precautionary  efforts,  "  would  come  when  it 
would  come."  When  we  remember  the  many  severe  accidents 
which  befel  him,  and  their  consequences — that  one,  in  particular, 
which  ever  after  kept  him  in  a  state  of  perpetual  pain — without 
enumerating  any  of  those  occasional  and  petty  ills  that  "  flesh  is 
heir  to,"  or  the  vast  call  upon  his  mental  resources  and  bodily 
strength  in  his  profession,  the  surprise  at  his  liability  to  nervous 
excitement  will  cease. 

But  I  wander  from  my  first  intention,  which  was  to  explain 
the  compunctious  visitings  which  ever  and  anon  caused  him  to 
brood  over  some  plan  for  retrieving  his  circumstances,  and  for 
atoning  to  his  family  and  himself  for  what  he  had  done.  America 
was  suggested.  But  such  a  venture  seemed  to  me  nothing 
short  of  the  risk  of  life  itself,  and  I  steadily  refused  my  consent 
to  his  taking  the  voyage,  as  indeed  I  had  done  several  years 
before,  when  the  "winter  of  his  discontent"  at  Covent  Garden 
made  him  turn  with  eagerness  to  that  land  of  hope.  Fortunately 
for  Mr.  Mathew^s's  wishes,  he  became  at  this  time  intimately 
acquainted  with  Mr.  Price,  the  proprietor  of  the  New  York  and 
other  principal  theatres  in  America.  Mr.  Price's  manner  and 
arguments  ultimately  inspired  me  with  so  much  confidence  in 
the  safety  and  success  of  the  experiment,  and  gave  me  so  com- 
plete a  reliance  on  his  candour  as  well  as  judgment,  that  I  re- 
laxed gradually  from  my  first  rigid  refusal,  especially  moved  as  I 
was  by  his  pledging  himself  to  accompany  my  husband  through 
"  flood  and  field  "  in  his  own  country.  This  last  consideration 
won  me  totally  from  my  previous  objections  and  fears,  and  the 
matter  was  settled  so  far  as  it  could  be,  without  the  necessary 
consent  of  his  bond-holder.  A  visit  to  America  at  this  time 
seemed  to  be  as  favourable  to  Mr.  Arnold's  interest  as  to  Mr. 
Mathews's,  for  the  next  season's  "At  Home"  threatened  to  be  at 
a  stand-still  for  want  of  a  subject.  It  was  proposed,  therefore, 
by  my  husband  to  Mr.  Arnold  to  leave  his  ground  at  the  English 
Opera  fallow  for  one  year,  and  to  return  the  next,  with  materials 
collected  in  America  for  a  plentiful  harvest.  For  Mr.  Arnold's 
consent  to  this  reciprocal  advantage,  he  offered  to  give  him  an 
additional  season  when  the  present  term  of  engagement  should 
have  expired!  This  did  not  strike  Mr.  Ai-nold  as  sufticient 
inducement  for  the  risk  he  considered  that  he  underwent  ia 


254  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

resigning  Mr.  Mathews  to  such  an  experiment  as  the  voyage 
and  the  chmate  to  which  he  purposed  to  expose  himself;  and 
finally,  my  husband  agreed  to  an  eiglith  season,  in  addition  to 
the  first  term,  and  two  thousand  pounds  besides  in  money  I 
which  sum  was  to  be  paid  to  Mr.  Arriold  by  several  instalments 
during  my  husband's  absence.  This  was  a  fearful  bargain,  and 
I  remember  thinking  it  almost  as  imprudent  as  the  former. 
However,  my  poor  husband  was  sanguine  in  the  extreme,  and  I 
endeavoured  to  be  satisfied  and  to  "  hope  for  the  best,"  the 
usual  phrase  resorted  to  when  we  feel  sure  of  the  worst.  In 
fact,  I  could  not  but  consider  such  an  exorbitant  purchase  of 
twelve  months'  liberty  as  fatal  to  the  end  proposed — namely, 
that  of  realizing  a  larger  sura  by  the  experiment  than  he  could 
gain  in  London.  This  great  responsibility  considered,  it  ap- 
peared highly  improbable  that  he  could  benefit  by  his  toil  and 
risk  further  than  in  seeing  a  new  race  of  human  beings,  from 
whom  to  glean  new  characters  for  his  next  "  At  Home,"  and  so 
it  proved.  My  husband,  by  concurring  events,  though  bril- 
liantly successful  when  he  did  act,  lost  part  of  his  average 
receipts  by  this  voyage,  and  the  first  sum  he  forwarded  to  Eng- 
land was  to  meet  the  first  instalment  due  to  Mr.  Arnold. 

All,  however,  was  finally  resolved  upon,  and  in  June,  on  the 
last  night  of  the  season,  he  took  leave  of  the  London  public  in 
the  following  address : — 

Ladies  and  Gentlemen,-— My  task  of  the  evening  being  finished,  it 
now  only  remains  for  me  to  bidyou  farewell.  This  is  the  last  time  for  many 
months  to  come,  that  I  shall  have  the  honour  and  pleasure  of  appearing 
before  you.  I  would  lain  make  you  merry  at  parting,  but  I  feel  it  im- 
possible to  leave  such  kind  friends,  even  for  a  time,  without  a  sensation 
here  that  prohibits  an  attempt  at  a  mirthful  leave-taking.  That  I  may 
not  therefore  throw  the  same  cloud  over  you  which  at  this  moment 
overshadows  me,  I  will  merely  entreat  that  you  will  not  forget  me  in 
my  absence,  and  believe  that  though  the  Atlantic  must  part  us,  it  is 
utterly  impossible  that  I  can  ever  forget  how  deeply  I  am  indebted  to 
your  flattering  and  unwearied  patronage.  I  trust  to  be  enabled  to  bring 
back  a  new  budget  lor  your  amusement,  and  all  my  powers  of  observa- 
tion shall  be  roused  to  their  utmost  to  collect  such  materials  in  mj'- 
travels  as  shall  prove  that  I  have  not  absented  myself  from  your  smiles 
in  vain. 

As  soon  as  the  fact  of  Mr.  Mathews's  approaching  departure 
was  known,  he  was  gratified  by  many  flattering  expressions  of 
strong  interest  and  regard.  Among  these  he  received  the 
following  note  from  his  school-fellow  and  early  friend,  Mr. 
Elliston: —  ,  . 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  255 

To  C.  Mathews,  Esq. 

Stratford-plaoe,  June  8th,  1822. 
My  deae  Sir, — Do  me  the  favour  to  let  me  have  a  small  private 
box,  on  one  of  the  evenings  of  your  performance  in  the  ensuing  week. 
I  wish  to  have  my  impression  of  your  talents  left  fully  on  my  mind 
before  your  departure ;  and  you  will  bear  with  you  to  America  ray 
ardent  wishes  for  j^our  prosperity  and  safe  return. 

Yours,  my  dear  Sir,  very  sincerely,  E.  W.  Elliston. 


To  Mr.  C.  Mathews, 

Berners-street,  June  29tli,  1822. 

My  deab  Mathews, — The  want  of  opportunity  to  assure  you,  with 
a  plausible  pretence  for  entering  on  so  suspicious  a  subject  (for  such 
assurances  are  either  very  worthless  or  very  valuable),  of  my  regard 
and  respect  for  you  has  for  many  months  pressed  more  heavily  on  my 
patience  than  I  fear  a  sin  would  upon  my  conscience :  I  therefore  leave 
you  to  imagine  from  my  past  anxiety  with  what  satisfaction  I  seize  the 
present  occasion  of  expressing  to  you  my  regret  that  our  adverse 
destinies  should  have  afforded  me  so  few  opportunities  of  cultivating 
your  friendship.  As  it  will  be  long  before  we  can  meet  again,  I  have 
less  hesitation  than  I  otherwise  might  have  in  declaring  to  you  without 
the  restraint  of  ceremony,  whose  language  sincerity  disowns,  my  cordial 
regard  and  esteem  for  your  character.  While  I  offer  you  in  plain 
honesty  the  just  tribute  (if  you  think  so  humble  a  tribute  worth 
acceptance),  1  beg  you  will  not  take  into  the  account  my  admiration  of 
your  extraordinary  talents,  in  the  avowal  of  which  my  single  voice 
could  not  swell  one  note  higher  the  loud  and  general  chorus  of  praise 
that  attends  upon  you ;  but  I  request  you  to  believe  that  I  am  proud 
and  gratified  in  acknowledging  the  sentiments  of  attachment  which  the 
noble  and  excellent  qualities  of  your  heart  and  mind  have  excited  in 
me;  and  in  memorial  of  their  truth,  I  beg  leave  to  request  your  ac- 
ceptance of  the  accompanying  picture,  which  may  derive,  in  your 
opinion,  that  value  from  the  artist's  genius  which  the  subject  is 
incapable  of  bestowing. 

I  am  too  well  aware  of  my  own  tendency  to  prolixity  to  follow  my 
own  wishes  by  prolonging  my  letter,  and  as  I  prefer  even  the  cold 
language  of  courtesy  to  that  which  may  be  construed  as  adulatory,  I 
will  relieve  you  from  farther  tediousness,  trusting  your  own  warmth  of 
heart  with  the  credit  due  to  my  assertion,  that  your  success  and  happi- 
ness in  our  own  or  more  distant  countries  is  equally  interesting  to  me, 
and  that 

I  am,  dear  Mathews,  your  faithful  friend,      W.  C.  Macready. 

A  fine  painting  by  Jackson,  now  in  the  Garrick  Club,  of  Mr. 
Macready  in  the  dying  scene  of  Henry  IV.,  accompanied  this 
most  gratifying  and  valued  letter. 


256  THE  LIFE  AND  CORKESPONDENCE  OF 

Previously  to  his  going  to  America,  Mr.  Mathews  was  once 
more  commanded  to  revisit  Carlton  House,  and  perform  his 
"  Youthful  Days,"  where  the  same  attentions  as  before  and  the 
same  gratifying  results  followed — nay,  the  same  rooms  (not  the 
dust  and  broom)  were  prepared  for  him.  This  performance,  like 
the  former,  was  also  to  a  select  party. 

Between  the  acts  the  King  conversed  with  Mr.  Mathews  as 
on  the  previous  occasion,  and  commented  with  great  judgment 
upon  all  that  he  had  done.  He  told  him,  however,  that  he 
thought  his  imitation  of  Curran  the  least  successful  of  any  he 
did.  This  at  first  surprised  and  disappointed  Mr.  Mathews, 
until  he  recollected  and  suggested  to  his  Majesty  that  his  imita- 
tion was  given  in  Mr.  Curran's  public  manner,  which  was  widely 
different  from  him  at  other  times.  The  King  observed,  "  True ; 
I  never  heard  him  in  public.  I  have  only  known  him  in  private 
life."  Mr.  Mathews  then  gave  a  specimen  of  Curran  in  society, 
at  which  the  King  was  delighted,  and  exclaimed,  "  0,  excellent ! 
excellent,  indeed !  I  am  glad  I  objected  to  what  you  first  did, 
for  it  has  drawn  forth  the  proof  that  your  observation  and  povvers 
are  unerring.     Your  imitation  is  perfect — perfect." 

The  King  then  talked  of  Mr.  Kemble,  and  said  "  Your 
Kemble  is  excellent,  whether  on  or  off  the  stage.  I  used  to 
fancy  my  own  imitation  of  him  very  true.  I  had  a  great 
regard  for  Kemble  ;  he  was  my  very  good  friend.  I'll 
suffer  no  one  to  speak  a  word  against  Kemble."  The  King 
then  remarked  upon  Mr.  Kemble's  correct  pronunciation  of 
the  English  language,  and  the  natural  horror  he  felt  at 
any  distortion  of  it.  This  led  to  my  husband's  relatinor  a 
story  of  the  tragedian's  correcting  a  servant  one  night  at 
Lord  North's.  The  gentlemen  staying  later  over  their  wine 
than  usual,  a  footman  informed  Mr.  Kemble  that  "  the  carriage 
was  waiting,  and  that  Mrs.  Kemble  had  desired  him  to  say  she 
had  got  the  rheumatiz."  After  a  minute's  pause,  Kemble 
turned  to  the  man,  and,  deliberately  taking  a  pinch  of  snuff, 
said,  "  Tell  Mrs.  Kemble  that  I'll  come,  and  another  time,  sir,  do 
you  say  '  tism.'"  The  King  laughed  loudly  at  this  anecdote,  and 
observed,  "  0,  it  is  so  like  him  !  I  can  relate  a  story  of  the 
same  kind,  which  will  prove  that  he  could  not  abstain  from  such 
corrections,  whether  it  was  a  servant  or  a  prince  who  offended 
his  nice  ear.  One  evening,  after  he  had  dined  with  me,  per- 
ceiving, in  the  course  of  conversation,  that  Kemble  carried  his 
finger  round  his  snuff-box,  evidently  in  distress  at  its  emptiness, 
I  held  out  my  own,  silently  inviting  him  to  partake  of  its  con- 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  257 

tents,  when  he  exclaimed,  *  Is  it  possible !  Does  a  prince  offer 
his  box  to  a  poor  player  ?'  I  replied,  '  Yes  ;  and  if  you  will  take 
a  pinch  from  it  you  will  much  ohleege  me.'  Kemble  paused  for 
a  moment,  then  bowed  stiffly,  and,  dipping  his  finger  and  thumb 
into  the  box,  replied,  '  I  accept  your  Royal  Highness's  offer 
with  gratitude ;  but,  if  you  can  extend  your  royal  jaws  so  wide, 
pray,  another  time,  say  oblige.'  And  I  did  so  ever  after,  1  assure 
you.     Oh,  I'm  under  vast  obligations  to  my  friend  Kemble  !"* 

At  the  close  of  the  evening  the  Prince  graciously  took  leave 
of  my  husband  with  much  kindness  of  manner,  and  expressed  a 
wish  that  his  approaching  voyage  might  prove  safe  and  pros- 
perous. 

It  is,  I  believe,  perfectly  well  known  that  Mr.  Mathews  never 
accepted  pecuniary  advantage  for  any  exercise  of  his  talents 
induced  by  friendly  solicitation  in  private,  or  as  a  matter  of 
courtesy  in  the  society  of  persons  of  rank.  If  he  had  chosen 
thus  to  let  himself  out  he  might  long  ago  have  retired  upon  a 
fortune  so  obtained ;  but  his  gentlemanlike  pride  and  inde- 
pendent spirit  precluded  his  receiving  any  remuneration  for  his 
talents,  except  in  the  way  of  his  profession.  One  instance  of 
royal  munificence  (not  to  be  rejected  by  a  subject),  however,  has 
fallen  in  my  way — the  only  one  that  has  escaped  destruction 
from  the  monthly  sacrifice  made  by  my  husband.  This  is  so 
agreeably  expressed,  and  so  characteristic  of  the  royal  kindness 
from  which  it  emanated,  that  I  cannot  resist  inserting  it  here. 

To  C.  Mathews,  JEsq. 

Mr.  Eobt.  Gray  begs  leave  to  inform  Mr.  Mathews  that  he  has  re- 
ceived the  King's  commands  for  issuing  one  hundred  guineas  from  the 
privy  purse,  in  token  of  the  pleasure  his  Majesty  had  derived  from  Mr. 
Mathews's  superior  excellency  in  the  line  of  his  profession  ;  which  sum 
will  be  most  readily  paid  by  Mr.  Gray  upon  his  being  favoured  with 
Mr.  Mathews's  receipt  for  the  amount. 

Duchy  of  Cornwall,  Somerset-place,  9th  July,  1822. 

*  I  remember  another  instance  of  the  same  kind.  When  Mr.  Kemble  acted 
in  York  as  "a  star,"  staying  in  the  house  of  Tate  Wilkinson,  Mr.  Mathews 
called  there  on  some  pretence,  for  the  sake  of  being  near  the  great  actor.  On 
entering  the  room,  Mr.  Kemble  was  sitting  at  the  further  end  of  it,  seemingly 
absorbed  in  reading.  Mrs.  Wilkinson,  a  broad  Yorkshire  woman,  inquired  of 
Mr.  Mathews  as  he  entered,  whether  he  did  not  find  the  streets  bad  to  walk 
in,  telling  him  that  Mr.  Kemble  had  been  out,  and  had  assured  her  they  were 
very  slippy.  Mr.  Kemble,  evidently  ear-wounded  by  the  word,  slightly  shook 
his  head,  without  any  other  movement,  and,  as  if  unconscious  that  his  correc- 
tion was  audible,  muttered,  *'' Slippery — slippery — slippery  J  ^^ 

S 


258  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

Mr.  Mathews's  departure  for  New  York — His  letters  from  America. 

In  August  Mr.  Price  accompanied  us  to  Liverpool,  whence  he 
and  my  husband  were  to  take  their  passage  to  New  York.  I 
will  pass  over  all  the  hopes  and  fears  of  this  parting.  The 
travellers  sailed,  and  Charles  and  I  returned  slowly  and  pensively 
back  to  town,  to  await  with  intense  anxiety  the  first  letter 
announcing  Mr.  Mathews's  escape  from  the  perils  I  so  dreaded 
to  think  upon.  During  the  interim  I  had  not  been  allowed  to 
read  a  newspaper.  The  first  intelligence,  therefore,  of  my  husband 
came  from  his  own  hand. 

To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Hoboken,  near  New  York,  Sept.  6tli,  1822. 
I  have  the  pleasure  of  announcing  to  you  my  safe  arrival  in  New 
York  harbour  last  night,  after  a  most  delightful  passage  of  thirty-five 
days.  During  the  whole  time  I  was  not  even  qualmish  for  one  moment. 
So  far  from  the  most  distant  approximation  to  sickness,  the  effect  of 
the  sea  air  produced  only  the  most  fierce  and  unconquerable  craving 
after  food.  In  short  hunger  was  my  only  disease.  We  had  eleven 
cabin  passengers, — only  one  female,  the  captain's  wife ;  an  old  colonel 
in  the  army  of  '69,  a  regular  built  Methodist,  whether  preacher  or  not 
we  could  not  discover ;  five  young  Americans,  who  had  been  sent  by 
their  relatives  to  improve  themselves  abroad,  and  who  had  been  in  Paris, 
Italy,  and  England,  and  of  course  furnished  ample  materials  for  pleasant 
conversation ;  a  Yorkshire  cloth  dealer ;  and  a  strange  compound  mix- 
ture of  gentleman  and  blackguard,  whose  origin,  connexions,  and 
profession  remained  a  mystery  to  the  last,  but  whose  constant  anxiety 
seemed  to  proceed  from  the  dread  of  being  one  moment  sober,  his  unre- 
mitting labour  to  keep  himself  equally  intoxicated,  and  who  was  never 
better  than  in  a  state  of  sober  tipsiness, — yet  the  most  violent  feeling 
which  he  excited  was  pity ;  for  he  was  never  offensive  or  troublesome, 
and  submitted  with  the  greatest  good  humour  to  the  perpetual  tricks 
we  played  him.  The  Colonel,  a  mixture  of  Longhow  and  Pi'olix,  was 
a  butt — the  Methodist  a  victim.  These,  with  cards,  backgammon, 
chess,  and  reading,  filled  up  our  time  very  agreeably.  The  weather  was 
delightful  during  the  whole  passage,  not  more  than  about  two  days' 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  259 

rain,  and  never  of  long  duration.  We  had  two  squalls  only,  of  about 
half  an  hour  each  ;  one  accompanied  by  a  thunderstorm  and  tremendous 
lightning,  which  gave  me  a  tolerable  specimen  of  what  a  gale  might 
be ;  for  a  regular  gale  it  was  not  allowed  to  be  by  those  who  had  crossed 
the  Atlantic  before.  However,  it  was  quite  sufficient  to  satisfy  my 
ambition.  The  weather  was  intensely  hot  during  the  latter  part  of  the 
passage,  and  only  admitted  of  dressing-gowns.  I  enjoyed  invariable 
health  and  spirits ;  and  was  never  better  in  health  in  my  life  than  I 
am  at  this  moment.  We  were  within  three  hundred  miles  of  New  York 
on  the  twenty-seventh  day ;  and  had  the  wind  been  fair,  we  might  easily 
have  accomplished  the  passage  in  two  days  more,  which,  at  this  time  of 
the  year,  would  have  been  accounted  a  quick  passage.  We  were,  how- 
ever, becalmed  three  or  four  days  in  succession,  and  were  eight  days  in 
performing  it.  So  much  for  my  voyage  and  safe  arrival.  And  now, 
my  dearest  wife,  I  am  arrived  at  a  painful  period,  for  1  cannot  conceal 
from  you  that,  from  the  moment  of  my  arrival  in  the  bay,  I  have  suf- 
fered a  dreadful  reverse  of  the  cheerfulness  I  had  hitherto  enjoyed. 
This,  however,  has  arisen  chiefly,  indeed  entirely,  on  your  account. 
Of  course  you  must  have  heard,  long  before  this  will  reach  you,  the  news 
which,  when  first  communicated  to  me,  shocked  and  appalled  me — that 
the  yellow  fever  had  made  its  appearance  in  New  York.*  The  intelli- 
gence was  abruptly  conveyed  to  us  by  a  fisherman,  who  came  alongside 
in  the  bay,  with  the  most  ignorant  and  shameful  exaggerations.  You 
may  imagine  my  sensations — I  cannot  describe  them:  but  quick  as 
lightning  I  thought  of  the  effect  the  account  of  this  calamity  would 
have  upon  you.  If,  within  twenty  miles  of  the  spot,  we  should  hear 
the  most  absurd  reports  of  facts  so  easily  ascertained,  how  naturally 
would  they  be  magnified  at  the  distance  of  three  thousand !  Then, 
again,  the  idea  of  your  hearing  it  a  month  at  least  before  I  could  have 
an  opportunity  of  giving  you  any  consolation  on  the  subject,  agitated 
and  distressed  me  beyond  measure.  These  were  my  first  and  most 
painful  impressions.  For  my  own  part,  I  am  now  as  completely  satis- 
fied that  ho  danger  exists,  as  I  am  that  you  are  free  from  it  at  Highgate, 
or  that  the  pens  I  am  writing  with  are  a  great  torment.  For  God's 
si^ke,  my  dearest  wife,  calm  your  agitation  if  you  have  not  heard  the 
truth ;  though  even  that  I  am  sensible  will  make  you  wretched.  Re- 
ceive this  assurance  from  me,  that  on  my  most  sacred  word  of  honour, 
the  danger  is  past ;  after  six  weeks'  sickness  and  alarm,  the  Board  of 
Health  reported  yesterday  only  two  cases,  both  doubtful,  and  these  in  a 
population  of  one  hundred  and  thirty  thousand  souls.  This  is  the  third 
visitation  in  nineteen  years.  The  disease  is  confined  to  one  part  of  the 
city,  called  the  infected  district;  and  no  one  case  has  occurred  out  of 
those  bounds.  The  magistrates  have  caused  all  the  inhabitants  of  this 
district  to  remove  and  shut  up  their  houses ;  and  fences  have  been 
erected   across   the   streets   to  prevent   all   communication.      By  this 

*  This  I  had  not  heard,  thanks  to  the  watchful  kindness  of  some  friends, 
who  had  contrived,  with  the  connivance  of  my  servants,  to  keep  every  news- 
paper and  other  reports  of  tlie  calamity  from  my  knowledge. 

S  2 


1260  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

means  the  progress  of  the  fever  has  been  stopped ;  and  though  a  great 
panic  has  been  struck,  and  numbers  have  fled,  yet  I  understand,  from, 
every  person  I  have  seen,  that  in  those  parts  of  the  city  which  are 
declared  healthy,  business  goes  on  as  cheerfully  as  before,  and  no  alarm 
is  felt.  The  Board  of  Health  publish  reports  daily.  Price  went  on 
shore  last  night ;  I  remained  on  board ;  and  all  but  three  of  us  followed 
Price's  example.  They  came  to  us  again  this  morning,  and  declared  all 
danger  past.  However,  I  resolved  not  to  enter  the  city  until  all  the 
inhabitants  are  again  settled  and  perfect  health  restored.  I  am  laughed 
at  for  my  fears ;  but  I  owe  it  to  you  and  dear  Charles  to  avoid  all  pos- 
sibility of  risk.  This  morning,  therefore,  I  crossed  the  river  in  a  steam- 
boat, to  the  most  romantic  and  beautiful  village,  whence  I  date  this, 
and  luckily  found  a  lodging  in  a  detached  house.  I  then  went  back  to 
the  vessel,  and  here  George  and  I  are  snug  from  all  alarm  and  danger.* 
We  have  an  arm  of  the  sea,  about  four  miles  across,  between  us  and 
the  most  healthy  part  of  New  York,  and  seven  from  the  diseased  dis- 
trict. The  theatre  opened  on  Monday ;  but  I  rather  think  I  shall  go 
to  Boston  or  Philadelphia,  and  defer  my  performance  here ;  for  every 
other  town  in  the  United  States  is  free  from  disease.  As  I  must 
despatch  this  to-morrow,  I  cannot  possibly  speak  decisively  until  my 
next  letter,  which  will  leave  this  on  the  16th  ;  but  be  assured  that  no 
power  or  persuasion  shall  induce  me  to  go  near  New  York  until  I  can 
go  with  that  kind  of  confidence  that  would  induce  you  to  give  me  your 
consent.  Pray  be  cautious  to  shut  your  ears  against  all  reports, — 
mine  is  Gazette  authority;  beware  of  newspapers.  The  fisherman, 
reported  that  one  hundred  and  forty  had  died  in  twenty-four  hours, 
and  that  no  one  had  recovered  who  had  sickened ;  and  he  lives  only 
•twenty-five  miles  from  the  cit3\  Here,  from  the  bills  of  mortality,  and 
the  official  returns  of  those  who  dare  not  deceive,  1  have  ascertained, 
that  in  six  weeks  only  eighty  persons  have  died  out  of  one  hundred  and 
thirteen  thousand,  and  not  fifty  of  them  of  the  fever,  and  that  numbers 
have  recovered  who  had  been  infected.  The  first  frosty  night  entirely 
eradicates  it,  which  is  pretty  sure  to  occur  in  September,  anH  it  never 
makes  its  appearance  after  that  month. 

C.  Mathews. 


To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Philadelphia,  Sept.  12th,  1822. 

I  have  the  pleasure  to  inform  you,  that  I  have  made  an  arrangement 
by  which  I  avoid  New  York  altogether  until  November,  and  thereby 
keep  entirely  clear  of  the  remotest  possibility  of  danger.  All  other 
parts  of  the  United  States  are  healthy.  On  Sunday  last  I  received  a 
summons  from  Price,  to  follow  him  to  Bristol,  seventy  miles  from  New 
York.     I  arrived  there  on  Monday  evening,  and  found  him  at  Cooper's  j 

*  George,  his  servant. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  261 

house,*  where  I  was  made  very  welcome.  He  is  away  until  next 
Saturday ;  but  Mrs.  Cooper  and  Mrs.  Price  made  me  very  comfortable. 
They  are  both  very  charming  women.  Cooper's  house  is  after  my  own 
heart,  delightfully  situated  on  the  banks  of  the  Delaware.  If  1  were 
not  a  salamander  I  should,  for  once,  confess  that  the  sun  could  be  hot 
enough  for  me.  The  Americans,  "  unto  the  manner  born,"  are  astonished 
at  my  bearing  the  climate  so  well.  The  thermometer  is  to-day  ninety 
degrees,  and  not  a  puff  of  air.  They  are  all  panting ;  but  I  am  not  at 
all  distressed,  excepting  in  the  night,  and  then  I  suffer.  It  is  not 
possible  to  bear  the  least  covering.  The  mosquitoes  have  not  yet 
attacked  me,  therefore  I  think  I  shall  escape,  as  I  do  at  home,  with 
your  enemies  the  gnats.  Price  came  down  this  morning  mad.  He 
declared  that  two  millions  of  mosquitoes  had  kept  him  awake  all  night. 
We  arrived  here  on  Wednesday,  per  steamboat,  twenty  miles  in  two 
hours  and  a  half.  The  manager  of  the  theatre  had  sent  an  offer  to  me, 
and  I  therefore  came  over  here  to  meet  him,  as  the  conveyance  is  so 
pleasant.  A  new  and  beautiful  theatre  is  nearly  finished  here,  in  place 
of  the  old  one  destroyed  by  fire.  I  have  made  an  engagement  to  play 
at  Baltimore,  under  the  same  manager.  In  a  few  days  I  shall  com- 
mence, but  to-morrow  return  to  Bristol,  to  spend  a  few  days  with 
Cooper  previously  to  my  journey.  Baltimore  is  a  hundred  and  twenty 
miles  hence.  I  shall  be  able  to  announce  my  arrival,  and  further 
particulars,  by  the  next  packet.  Hitherto  I  am  so  much  in  amazement 
lost,  that  I  dare  not  trust  myself  to  give  an  opinion  of  the  people,  or 
venture  to  say  whether  I  like  or  dislike  them.  It  appears  to  me,  that 
the  lower  orders  must  necessarily  prevent  a  European  from  being  com- 
fortable, if  he  has  not  made  up  his  mind  very  resolutely  to  look  on, 
laugh,  and  thoroughly  despise.  If  this  be  the  effect  of  a  republican 
form  of  government,  give  me  a  monarch,  even  if  he  be  a  despot.  For 
a  specimen : — I  had  taken  a  jaunt  in  a  steamboat  with  a  fellow- 
passenger  to  New  Brunswick;  but,  a  wretched  inn,  an  independent 
landlord,  who  took  a  chair  and  sat  down  while  we  were  at  breakfast, 
with  his  hat  on,  hospital  beds,  &c.,  drove  us  away  on  Sunday  morning 
to  Elizabeth  Town,  fifteen  miles  on  our  road  back  to  Hoboken.  There 
are  no  post-chaises  here,  nor  any  mode  of  travelling  but  steam  or  stage- 
coaches, excepting  occasionally  an  innkeeeper  happens  to  have  a  carriage. 
This  was  the  case  at  Brunswick,  and  we  were  forwarded  to  Elizabeth 
Town.  When  we  drove  up  to  the  door  no  soul  came  out  to  greet  us, 
though  the  landlord  and  waiter  were  sitting  in  the  hall  cheek  by  jowl, 
see  sawing  upon  chairs — a  favourite  mode  here.  We  entered  the  house 
and  passed  them.  At  length  we  ascertained  which  was  mine  host.  He 
shook  us  both  by  the  hand,  and  said  to  each,  "  How  d'ye  do  ?  I  have 
s6en  you  before?"  "Can  we  have  beds  here?"  "I  guess  you  can." 
At  night  I. was  stretched  on  a  wretched  straw  mattrass,  but  was  awoke 
at  four  o'clock,  before  daylight,  by  mine  host,  who  said  he  had  a  letter 

*  Mr.  Cooper,  the  American  tragedian,  with  whom  we  had  had  such  friendly 
intimacy  at  Liverpool  in  1804, 


262  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

for  me.  You  may  judge  of  my  amazement,  for  I  was  confident  when  I 
went  to  bed  that  the  fellow  did  not  know  my  name  ;  however,  he  had 
guessed,  and  found  me  out.  The  letter  proved  to  be  from  Price,  who 
had  sent  a  carriage  to  Brunswick  for  me,  having  heard  that  I  was 
there.  The  driver  came  on  in  the  mail  to  Elizabeth  Town,  and,  on 
arrival,  Boniface  would  call  me  up. 

When  I  got  up  I  agreed  to  go  to  Price,  in  the  machine  in  which  I 
came,  which  had  rested  there  all  night.  When  I  was  ready,  the  driver 
said  to  the  one  who  had  been  despatched  for  me,  "  Will  you  go  inside 
or  out  ?"  and  the  fellow,  with  a  segar  in  his  mouth,  actually  hesitated 
whether  he  should  sit  by  my  side  or  the  driver's.  In  short,  all  the 
Whites  of  the  order  are  born  blackguards,  and  the  Blacks,  scent  per 
cent,  above  them  in  being  genteel — a  favourite  word  here.  The  driver 
took  up  a  book  that  I  had  laid  down  on  the  seat,  and  began  to  read  in 
it,  without  the  least  symptom  of  apology.  There  is  not  the  slightest 
show  of  civility  with  them ;  a  bow  or  a  touch  of  the  hat  I  have  not 
seen  once,  or  heard  the  words  "  thank  ye"  once  used  upon  payment. 
As  to  the  higher  order,  for  there  are  but  two,  what  I  can  gather  from  a 
party  with  whom  I  dined  yesterday  is,  that  they  differ  but  little  from 
the  English  in  either  manner  or  customs.  They  are  natural,  easy,  and 
polite ;  and  you  will  not  dislike  them  from  hearing  that  they  are  m(Jst 
anxious  to  show  me  great  attention.  About  twelve  of  the  first  people 
in  Philadelphia  gave  me  a  splendid  dinner  yesterday  on  my  arrival, 
though  I  had  left  my  letters  of  introduction  at  New  York. 

C.  Mathews. 


To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Baltimore,  Sept.  28th,  1822. 

T  arrived  here  on  Saturday  morning  last,  and  made  my  dehut  on  the 
American  stage  on  Monday,  Sept.  23,  with  the  "  Trip  to  Paris." 
Nothing  could  be  more  enthusiastic  and  cheering  than  my  reception.  I 
Was  a  little  embarrassed  at  first,  as  I  always  am,  at  great  applause :  it 
affected  me,  and  with  diflSculty  I  made  my  exordium.  The  first  song, 
you  know,  is  not  calculated  for  great  eflfect ;  and  deep  attention  was  all 
my  repayment  for  some  minutes  after  my  commencement.  When  I 
came  to  the  ballad-singer  and  his  pupil,  "  London  now  is  out  of  Town," 
which  is  their  own  national  air,  I  looked  upon  my  business  as  done  in 
America.  They  roared  and  screeched  as  if  they  had  never  heard  any- 
thing comical  before  ;  and  I  don't  think  they  have  been  glutted  in  that 
way. 

I  discovered  the  never-to  be-mistaken  token  of  pocket  handkerchiefs 
crammed  into  the  mouths  of  man}^  of  the  pittites.  I  had  only  to  hold 
up  my  crooked  finger  when  I  wanted  them  to  laugh,  and  they  obeyed 
my  call.  I  was  most  agreeably  surprised,  indeed,  at  finding  them  an 
audience  of  infinite!}''  more  intelligence  and  quickness  than  I  had 
expected.  Bartley  had  shrugged  his  shoulders  at  the  idea  of  their 
taking  the  jokes.     One  of  the  London  papers  said  I  should  be  lost 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  263 

here ;  and  most  people  supposed  that  I  should  find  them  dull ;  and  so 
they  are  in  private,  I  suspect — tarnation  heavy  and  grave,  but  not  so 
in  the  theatre.  The  neatest  and  best  points  were  never  better  appre- 
ciated, even  in  London ;  and  I  am  quite  certain  from  the  effects,  that 
the  French  language  is  much  more  generally  understood  here  than  in 
England.  They  have  a  much  larger  proportion  of  French  people,  for 
the  size  of  their  towjis,  than  we  have,  and  every  bit  of  broken  English 
is  a  sure  hit. 

I  repeated  the  "  Trip  to  Paris"  on  the  second  night ;  and,  last  night, 
"  The  Country  Cousins"  went  gloriously.  The  whole  lower  circle  was 
crammed ;  but  only  those  who  could  go  in  coaches  could  attend,  of 
course.  The  first  night  there  were  eight  hundred  dollars  in  the  house, 
and  my  share  came  to  50i.  sterling.  In  my  next  I  shall  be  able  to  tell 
you  the  results  of  my  seven  nights*  engagement,  which  is  an  experi- 
mental one.  The  three  great  towns — Boston,  Philadelphia,  and  New 
York,  are  the  marts  where  I  am  to  make  my  money.  In  the  mean 
time  we  will  not  object  to  50/.  per  night ;  which  sum  Price  offered  me 
certain,  and  I  was  advised  to  refuse.  The  imperial  and  important  fact 
I  have  ascertained — that  they  can  taste  and  feel  my  humour,  and  that 
I  have  made  a  great  hit.  The  papers,  which  are  very  numerous  here, 
and  have  taken  me  up  with  a  high  hand,  will  send  my  fame  before  me 
through  the  States.  I  was  very  anxiou-s  and  doubtful,  and  looked 
upon  the  first  night  here  to  be  one  of  the  most  important  in  my 
tlieatrical  life.  It  is  over,  and  well  over ;  and  I  have  no  doubt,  from 
its  effects,  that  my  utmost  hopes  will  be  realized.  Wood,  the  manager, 
is  quite  a  gentleman,  and  him  only  have  I  yet  seen.  I  had  only  one 
letter  to  Baltimore ;  and  the  person  to  whom  it  is  addressed  is  not  at 
home.  Price  I  have  left  at  Bristol,  but  will  send  your  letter  to  him. 
You  see  I  have  followed  your  example  in  the  size  of  my  sheet,  though 
I  hardly  hope  to  fill  it. 

I  rejoice  as  the  hours  fly  that  you  are  nearer  getting  my  first  letter. 
The  most  serious  part  of  the  appalling  news  of  the  fever  was  the  effect 
I  feared  the  first  report  might  have  upon  you,  and  the  distressing 
suspense,  of  perhaps  three  or  four  weeks,  in  which  you  would  be  kept. 
I  hope  by  the  end  of  next  week  my  letter  will  have  reached  you,  and 
from  that  time  the  communication  will  be  more  regularly  kept  up. 

C.  Mathews. 


To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

New  York,  Nov.  7th,  1822. 
Here  I  am  at  last;  and,  thank  God,  health  and  confidence  are 
restored  here.  This  is  really  a  delightful  city,  with  as  much  bustle  as 
London  or  Paris;  but  bearing  a  greater  resemblance  to  Dublin  in  many 
particulars  than  to  the  former.  The  want  of  handsome  equipages  and 
well-dressed  persons  is  particularly  striking  to  an  Englishman.  At 
present  it  is  a  scene  of  the  greatest  possible  noise  and  confusion.  I 
believe  I  explained  to  you  that  there  was  a  part  of  the  city  only  that 


^64  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

had  been  declared  infected.  From  this  part  the  whole  of  the  inhabitants 
fled.  Imagine  the  effect  of  the  Strand  from  Bedford-street,  all  Charing 
cross,  Cockspur-street,  Haymarket,  and  so  on,  across  to  Covent  Garden, 
being  entirely  depopulated;  and  then  these  persons  all  returning  on  a 
sudden  to  their  dwellings ;  their  furniture,  which  had  been  taken  to 
different  country  dwellings,  and  to  distant  parts  of  the  city,  all  being 
brought  back.  You  may  then  fancy  what  I  am  now  witnessing.  The 
bustle  is  very  cheering  to  the  natives,  as  it  proclaims  the  return  of 
health  and  business;  but  it  is  very  distressing  to  me,  for  the  noise  is 
overpowering.  1  arrived  here  on  Saturday  evening  last,  after  a  three- 
days'  ride  from  Philadelphia,  ninety  miles,  which  I  performed  with  ease 
in  half  an  hour  less  than  the  given  time,  as  I  found  Price's  dinner  ready 
in  that  time  after  my  arrival.  This  month  is  particularly  delightful 
here :  it  is  what  is  called  their  Indian  summer.  Very  seldom  is  a  cloud 
to  be  seen,  and  no  logs.  For  the  last  ten  days  it  has  been  all  sunshine, 
a,nd  a  perfectly  clear  sky ;  and  you  know  what  a  blessing  that  is  for 
me.  The  nights,  to  be  sure,  are  cold.  When  the  really  hard  weather 
sets  in,  which  they  say  is  much  more  severe  than  ours,  I  shall  suffer, 
for  here  all  are  wood  fires,  and  to  these  I  never  can  be  reconciled.  You 
have  been  in  Paris  only  in  summer,  and  therefore  you  do  not  know  this 
horror.  The  want  of  cheerfulness  and  civility  is  striking,  and  the 
egregious  folly  of  the  middle  and  lower  orders  in  their  fancied  inde- 
pendence, is  calculated  to  produce  a  smile  of  thorough  contempt  rather 
than  anger.  It  consists  in  studied  sullenness,  the  determination  never 
to  be  civil  or  apparently  kind  to  a  fellow-creature,  and  not  to  bow,  or 
gay  thank  }■  e,  to  a  person  they  know  to  be  their  superior,  for  they  affect 
not  to  believe  in  it.  The  upper  orders  (for  there  are  upper  orders,  and 
must  be,  though  it  is  not  allowed  here)  either  like  it,  or  are  compelled 
to  submit  to  it.  I  cannot  quite  make  up  iifiy  mind  which  is  the  real 
case.  The  manager  of  a  theatre  tells  me  that  it  is  not  in  his  power  to 
induce  the  lamplighter  or  carpenter,  when  he  walks  into  the  green-room 
before  ladies,  to  take  off  his  hat,  and  this  is  allowed,  and  must  be  sub- 
mitted to,  they  tell  me.  No  carriages  are  closed  here  in  summer  (nor 
in  winter,  I  should  think),  and  the  driver  will  smoke  a  segar,  and  a 
lady  dares  not  ask  him  to  desist,  though  the  smoke  blinds  her,  because 
the  odds  are,  that  he  will  say  he  has  a  right  to  smoke,  and  every  man 
must  do  as  he  likes  in  an  independent  state.  A  few  days  before  I  left 
Baltimore  I  travelled  in  a  stage  coach  a  short  distance.  The  coachman, 
an  awkward,  dirty,  cadaverous-looking  hound,  that  would  be  thought 
too  shabby  for  a  stable-boy  in  England,  turned  round  to  the  passengers 
(for  the  driving-seat  is  a  part  of  the  coach,  and  not  an  elevated  box,  as 
with  us),  and  said,  "  Has  anybody  got  any  tobacco,  for  I'm  out  ?"  "  I 
chew,  sir,"  said  a  passenger.  "  Give  me  a  bit,  will  you  ?  Thank'ye, 
General."  "  Judge,*  will  you  have  a  quid  ?  I  got  plenty  now."  A 
fact !  I  have  seen  this  General  since  in  company,  and,  "  barring"  the 
quid,  really  a  gentleman  by  education  and  travel,  fit  for  any  society.     I 

*  Judge  Johnson,  of  Orleans,  and  a  member  of  the  Congress. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  265. 

ventured  to  ask  him  how  he  could  endure  such  familiarity?  and  added, 
that  persons  of  his  rank  appeared  to  me  to  cherish  and  encourage  what 
is  distinctly  offensive  to  foreigners.  He  replied,  "  All  such  men  have 
votes." 

I  need  not  say  what  a  feast  it  was  to  me  to  receive  two  large  packets 
the  moment  I  arrived  on  Saturday  night.  I  am  quite  delighted  with 
the  plan  of  your  journal :  it  is  a  happy  thought,  and  I  am  very  grateful 
to  you  for  your  kind  anxiety  to  amuse  me.  Pray  continue  on  the 
same  plan.  Price  has  offered  to  ensure  75Z.  per  night,  an  advance  of 
251.  This  looks  well ;  but  still  I  take  my  chance  of  my  shares,  better 
or  worse.  Price,  and  Mrs.  Price  too,  beg  all  sorts  of  kind  things  may 
be  said  to  you  in  return  for  yours  to  them. 

If  you  see  Miller,  tell  him  I  have  got  a  lodging  on  the  English  plan 
at  New  York.  I  told  him  I  never  would  board,  if  I  starved,  but  he 
assured  me  I  must.  Tell  him  I  never  have,  and  never  will.  I  am  in- 
formed, that  out  of  a  population  of  a  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  I. 
am  the  only  person  who  has  got  a  lodging  to  himself.  In  short  the 
only  person  who  can  be  alone  if  he  wishes  it;  and  I  do  wish  it,  and 
never  enjoyed  solitary  pleasure  so  luxuriously  as  here.  God  bless  and 
preserve  you  and  dear  Charles,  for  the  sake  of  him  who  loves  you  more 
and  more  as  time  goes  on. 

Ever,  ever  affectionately  yours,  C.  Mathews. 


To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

New  York,  Nov.  15th,  1822. 
I  have  had  the  pleasure  of  receiving  a  few  pages  more  of  your 
iournal ;  and  I  am  more  than  delighted  at  the  cheerful  tone  of  it,  and 
find  that  "  the  first  fit  of  blues"  is  not  recorded  until  the  middle  of 
September.  I  am  now  familiarized  to  the  subject,  and  understand  the 
mysteries  and  peculiarities  of  the  yellow  fever,  which  only  a  residence 
on  the  spot  can  possibly  make  one  acquainted  with.  The  impression 
that  we  Europeans  have  of  its  contagious  qualities  is,  that  it  is  like 
the  plague.  Now  the  fact  is,  that  out  of  one  hundred  and  twenty 
thousand  inhabitants  (to  be  sure  a  great  proportion  fled),  only  twenty- 
eight  died.  You  may  remember  that  I  gave  you  an  account  of  a  poor 
victim  in  the  ship,  of  whom  we  made  sport,  who  was  constantly  in  a 
state  of  intoxication.  He  was  panic-struck  about  the  fever;  and  when 
I  got  the  only  bed  that  was  vacant  at  Hoboken,  on  the  opposite  shore, 
he  begged  hard  to  be  taken  into  the  same  house.  When  I  fled  to 
Bristol,  I  sent  George  to  him  to  say  he  might  have  my  bed.  He  lived 
only  three  weeks;  he  had,  it  is  true,  undermined  his  constitution. 
They  swear  here  that  it  was  not  the  fever;  but  if  it  was  not,  he  died  of 
fright.  From  that  hour  America  has  been  to  me  a  large  hospital ;  and 
all  conversation  a  mere  medical  report.  I  had  been  in  Baltimore  more 
than  a  fortnight  before  I  found  that  the  yellow  fever  existed  there 
stronger  than  in  New  York,  and  with  more  fatal  consequences  ;  forty- 
five,  forty,  and  thirty-five  deaths  occurring  in  three  succeeding  weeks. 


266  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

What  think  you  of  this  ?  Was  it  not  enough  to  appal  me  ?  One- 
half  of  the  actors  were  ill  of  ague,  which  they  brought  from  Wash- 
ington ;  so  that  I  was  surrounded  by  "  horrors  and  distraction."  •  It 
really  was  melancholy.  Had  poor  Charley  been  here,  he  could  not  have 
survived,  or  any  body  of  such  constitution.  Thanks  to  a  good  one,  and 
a  rigid  adlierence  to  my  plan  of  diet,  I  lay  like  Manly  on  the  wreck  of 
the  Apollo,  and  saw  my  comrades  dying  around  me.  "  What  could 
induce  you  to  come  here,  Sir,  during  our  sickness  P"  was  consoling  to 
hear ;  but  this  assailed  me  on  every  side.  The  simple  fact  was,  that 
the  newspapers  which  do  and  will  govern  everything,  announced  the 
yellow  fever  at  New  York  with  exaggeration,  but  artfully  concealed  the 
disease  at  Baltimore  under  the  title  of  *'  bilious  malignant,"  which  did 
not  prevent  strangers  from  visiting  them.  It  was  marvellous  that  with 
this  drawback,  my  theatrical  success  was  so  great.  It  would  have  been 
double,  doubtless,  but  for  the  sickness.  The  loss  has  been  great  to  me; 
but  I  have  escaped,  thank  God !  and  have  never  had  one  moment's 
illness  since  I  arrived.  No  language,  however,  can  describe  to  you  the 
wretched  eiFect  of  the  regular  report  of  relations,  friends,  &c.  at 
Washington.  I  inquired  for  Mr.  Law,  a  nephew  of  Lord  Ellenborough, 
to  whom  I  had  a  letter.  Knocked  at  the  door, — "  Oh  1  my  master's 
dead!"  Inquired  for  Mr.  Paterson,  to  whom  I  had  a  letter  from 
Washington  Irving, — "  Out  of  town."  Engaged  to  dine  with  Mrs. 
Paterson,  in  his  absence, — excuse  stated,  the  "  sister  dead!"  "  General 
Bidglej^'s  compliments  to  Mr.  Mathews — honour  of  his  company  to 
dinner  on  Friday."  Friday  arrives, — "  General  Eidgley's  compliments, 
— sorry,  but  the  death  of  his  daughter  prevents,"  &c.  On  my  return 
from  Washington,  I  actually  went,  letter  in  hand,  to  Mr.  Paterson,^ — 
"  Oh  !  Sir,  my  master  died  last  night !"  I  will  close  here.  You  will 
understand  what  I  have  felt.  'Tis  now  over ;  but  be  satisfied  of  this, 
that  this  disease  never  existed  in  July,  August,  or  September,  and  from 
this  month  the  climate  is  very  healthy.  The  present  month  is  particu- 
larly delicious, — warm  nights  and  Italian  days.  The  sun  is  now 
shining  with  splendour  and  brightness,  without  a  cloud,  and  no  heat. 

Now  to  turn  to  the  bright  part  of  the  picture.  I  have  made  my 
appearance  here,  and  have  made  a  prodigious  hit.  Price  has  just  shown 
himself  a  capital  politician.  You  know  how  I  fought  against  appearing 
in  the  regular  drama,  and  had  determined,  up  to  the  time  I  saw  him 
in  Baltimore,  that  I  would  not  be  moved  from  my  fixed  resolve.  The 
Baltimore  audience,  however,  were  noisy,  and  they  drove  me  from  my 
table,  and  I  took  to  the  drama  in  despair ;  for  1  was  out  of  heart,  out 
of  humour,  and  out  of  pocket.  So  I  acted  Duherly*  and  the  "  Polly 
Packet,^ — Solomon  Gundy, \  and  " DilUgence"  Monsieur  Tonson. 
I  think  I  told  you  I  had  acted  with  great  effect, — certainly  one  of  my 
very  best  efforts  in  or  out  of  the  legitimate  line.  Well,  Price  saw  me 
act  Goldfinch  and  Tonson  one  night,  and  came  round  and  said,  "  Those 
Sir,  are  the  two  parts  you  open  in  at  New  York ;  they  have  seen  nothing 

**Lord  Duberly,  in  "  The  Heir  at  Law." 
t  lu  "Who  wants  a  Guinea  ?" 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  267 

like  your  Goldfinch*  Sir,  and  it  must  be  so."  I  gave  way ;  for  to  say 
truth,  I  had  doubts  that  all  American  audiences  were  like  Baltimore ; 
and  in  that  case  I  had  long  secretly  determined  to  embark  at  New 
York,  and  sneak  home  again.  Nothing,  however,  can  be  more  complete 
than  the  contrast, — nothing  more  brilliant  and  decisive  than  my  success. 
I  opened  to  the  greatest  stock  house  ever  known, — much  greater  than 
that  of  Cooke  or  Kean.  Nearly  1800  dollars !  My  reception  was  more 
than  rapturous ;  I  never  recollect  anything  more  joyous  in  my  life. 
They  infused  me  with  fun  ;  I  was  in  tip-top  spirits  ;  and  the  songs  were 
hailed  with  shouts.  The  Tonson  was  equal  in  effect  to  the  most  suc- 
cessful of  my  former  personations ;  and  at  the  dropping  of  the  curtain, 
huzzas  cheered  my  efforts.  This  was  an  important  night,  as  you  say, 
and  I  am  sorry  that  it  was  not  the  second  communication,  as  you 
anticipated;  but  I  am  content.  The  whole  tone  of  my  future  pro- 
ceedings will  be  taken  from  this  night.  This  is  the  London  of  America ; 
and  I  was  forced  to  play  at  Doncaster  first.  All  the  places  were  taken 
for  my  benefit.  Therefore  Price  calculated  cleverly,  that  to  begin  the 
entertainments  until  my  second  engagement,  would  be  throwing  them 
away.  I  have  my  benefit  on  the  eighth  night, — then  make  a  fresh 
engagement  with  all  my  novelty.  Now  we  have  had  1600  dollars  to 
"  The  Heir-at-Law,"  and  second  night  of  Tonson.  Kely  upon  it,  the 
business  is  done,  and  my  expedition  will  be  completely  successful.  Of 
the  loss  of  time  we  must  not  think. 

Love  to  dear  Charles ;  and  say  how  I  rejoice  that  he  has  obtained 
the  Delphin  Classics.  I  beg  that  he  may  be  indulged  to  his  wish  in 
such  pursuits,  during  my  absence.  God  bless  you  both,  prays  daily 
your  truly  affectionate 

C.  Mathews. 


To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

New  York,  Nov.  23rd,  1822. 
I  have  so  frequently  written  in  high-flowing  terms  of  my  success  in 
my  tours,  that  I  have  almost  exhausted  every  term  of  surprise  or  admi- 
ration ;  but  this  is  the  most  extraordinary  hit  I  have  ever  made.  Last 
night  I  had  my  first  benefit,  and  I  shall  always  think  it  the  greatest 
compliment  ever  paid  me.  The  torrents  of  rain  which  fell  during  the 
whole  day  (and  we  in  England  don't  know  what  rain  is)  would  have 
totally  destroyed  the  house  in  any  town  in  which  I  have  ever  been.  I 
had  to  wait  for  a  hackney  coach  until  the  time  1  ought  to  have  been 
on  the  stage ;  but  walking  was  out  of  the  question,  as  nothing  short  of 
drowning  appeared  inevitable.  It  was  thought  by  all  that  it  would 
injure  the  house  very  materially,  as  scarcely  any  private  carriages  are 
kept  here.  When  I  went  in,  to  my  great  surprise  as  well  as  delight. 
Price  said,  "  Well,  sir,  here  they  are.  Your  house  is  full.  This  is  the 
greatest  complimetit  ever  paid  to  an  actor  in  New  York.     I  don't 

*  In  "  The  Road  to  Ruin." 


268  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

believe  that  there  is  any  other  man  that  would  have  had  such  a  house 
as  this  on  such  a  night."  There  were  1800  dollars,  which  is  nearly  as 
much  as  the  house  will  hold.  The  rain  must  have  done  some  injur}^ 
else  it  would  have  overflowed,  instead  of  being  full,  and  I  believe  that 
is  all  the  difference.  No  enthusiasm  ever  was  greater.  Price  has  shown 
his  judgment  greatly  in  this  engagement,  I  told  you  in  my  last  the 
origin  of  my  taking  to  the  drama.  The  entertainments  were  asked  for 
every  day  at  the  box-office,  and  the  cry  you  must  give  them,  or  the 
houses  will  fall  off;  and  on  the  sixth  night,  a  wet  night,  too,  we  had 
1400  dollars  to  Goldfinch,  the  second  time,  and  Tonson,i\\Q  third  time. 
Price  justly  said,  '*  Should  we  not  be  fools  to  throw  away  our  strength, 
when  they  come  in  this  way  to  very  weakness  ?"  Well,  I  must  do  one 
of  them  for  my  own  niglvt.  On  Wednesday  I  start  with  the  "  Trip  to 
Paris."  The  eventful  period  of  which  you  were  so  anxious  to  hear  is 
arrived ;  it  is  properous  beyond  our  hopes.  I  look  upon  the  remainder 
of  my  work  as  a  settled  point.  All  other  towns  will  take  their  tone 
from  this,  as  in  England  from  London ;  and  the  curiosity  to  see  me  is 
such  that  Cooper  and  Phillips,  the  only  stars  excepting  Booth,  say  that 
they  fail  because  the  people  are  hoarding  up  their  dollars  to  see  me.  I 
send  you  a  copy  of  a  few  lines  in  the  newspaper  of  Wednesday. 

A  very  handsome  complimjent  has  been  paid  to  Mathews,  such  as  cannot  be 
soon  forgotten  by  him.  We  learn  that  a  party  of  gentlemen  have  chartered 
the  steam-boat,  The  Fly,  to  bring  them  down  from  Albany  (two  hundred 
miles)  to  his  benefit  to-morrow  evening  ;  thus  making  a  journey,  to  and  fro, 
of  four  hundred  miles,  to  be  gratified  in  witnessing  his  powers  for  one 
evening. 

Another  unsought  puff  caught  my  eye  : — 

The  proprietors  of  the  Brooklyn  boat  inform  the  public,  that  the  steam- 
vessels  Fulton  and  Active  will,  on  the  occasion  of  Mr.  Mathews's  benefit, 
start  from  Brooklyn  at  half- past  five,  and  remain  to  carry  the  passengers  back 
after  the  play. 

These  boats  never  cross  the  ferry  after  five  on  other  occasions.  Does 
not  this  look  well  ?     This  morning  I  read : — 

Dr.  Hosack  informs  the  medical  students  that,  in  consequence  of  the  tempest 
last  night,  which  compelled  him  to  postpone  his  lectures,  &c. 

I  now  send  the  receipts  of  the  eight  nights ;  and  I  think,  and  Price 
says  he  is  sure  of  it,  the  next  will  keep  up  to  the  mark. 

DOLLARS. 

Road  to  Ruin— Tonson 1700 

Poor  Gentleman — Sleepwalker 962 

Heir-at-Law — Tonson 1401 

Who  Wants  a  Gruinea  ? —Killing  No  Murder  .     .     .  1178 

Henry  IV.— Lying  Valet 1214 

Road  to  Ruin— Tonson 1420 

Beaux  Stratagem — Actor  of  All  Work 1287 

Wild  Oats— Do.  Do 1800 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  269 

Let  this  suffice  until  we  meet.  Be  satisfied,  though,  you  understand 
it,  and  the  dollars  may  dazzle  you  too  much  (444  dollars  are  1001. 
observe).  I  have  received  above  SOOl.  for  my  eight  nights ! !  This  is 
superior  to  anything  I  ever  did  out  of  London.  I  have  gained  25L 
per  night  by  sharing. 

C.  Mathews. 


To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

New  York,  Dec.  7th,  1822. 

The  cold  is  intense,  and  I  am  told  it  is  nothing  to  what  may  be 
expected.  We  have  already  had  snow  enough  to  spoil  one  or  two  of 
my  houses.  However,  an  indifferent  house  will  yield  me  nearly  50/. 
sterling.  My  own  entertainments  do  not  hit  here  so  well  as  at  Balti- 
more ;  the  general  belief  is,  that  they  are  too  local  for  Americans,  who 
have  not  visited  Europe,  to  understand.  This  would,  however,  have 
equally  applied  at  Baltimore.  The  truth  is,  the  theatre  is  too  large  for 
the  effects.  Price  has  shown  himself  an  admirable  politician.  Had  I 
commenced  with  my  entertainment,  I  am  convinced  my  attraction  after- 
wards would  not  have  been  what  it  is  now ;  and  my  feelings  are  by  no 
means  hurt  that  here  they  think  me  an  actor — "  a  very  natural  actor, 
and  the  only  comedian  that  has  ever  been  seen  in  America  that  was  not 
extravagant."  The  word  mimic  has  never  been  flung  in  my  teeth  ;  and 
without  songs  or  imitations,  or  any  of  those  extra  aids,  which  even  in 
Edinburgh  I  required,  I  can  draw  a  house.  That  Goldfinch  and 
Tonson  are  good  tor  1500  dollars  is  a  bet  now  (when  I  return). 

I  finish  my  second  engagement  here  on  Friday  next,  to  a  great  house 
(this  is  already  settled),  and  then,  I  believe,  go  to  Boston.  I  am  very 
much  pleased  with  the  society  of  New  York,  and  gradually  like  it 
better.  I  have  seen  nothing  but  the  upper  ranks  lately,  and  they  are 
very  delightful  people.  The  woman  with  whom  I  lodge  is  the  widow 
of  an  Englishman,  and  therefore  knows  all  our  habits.  The  servants 
are  negroes,  and  therefore  I  have  no  dealings  with  the  sulky-looking 
Yankee.  I  do  not  even  buy  my  own  gloves — the  shopkeepers  are  so 
very  angry  when  you  purchase  anything  of  them. 

If  you  ever  see  the  Bartleys,  who  are  engaged,  I  hear,  at  Covent 
Garden,  pray  say  to  them  how  much  I  am  delighted  with  Dr.  Hosack 
and  his  family :  they  are  the  real  sterling  goods,  and  I  am  quite  at 
home  with  them.  They  ask  me  to  entertain  me — to  afford  me  quiet 
repose  after  my  labours.  "  My  children,  you  must  not  talk  to  Mr. 
Mathews ;  he  talks  too  much  in  public  to  be  disposed  to  answer  all 
your  questions."     This  is  rare,  and  I  value  it. 

C.  Mathews. 


270  THE  LIFE  AND  COERESPONDENCE  OF 

To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

New  York,  Dec.  15th,  1822. 

The  great  pleasure  I  felt  in  receiving  your  letters  was  much  damped 
by  the  melancholy  tone  of  expression  respecting  my  situation.  It  is 
curious  enough  that  on  the  9th  of  October  I  dreamed  about  you,  or  had 
a  sort  of  vision  of  your  being  very  unhappy,  or  ill,  or  that  something 
very  distressing  had  happened;  but  the  effect  your  expression  of 
countenance  produced  on  me  (when  silently  you  shook  your  head  as  if 
you  dreaded  to  inform  me  of  the  worst),  was  such  that  I  could  scarcely 
speak  at  breakfast,  I  was  so  wretchedly  out  of  spirits.  Price  laughed, 
but  Mrs.  Price  felt  very  kindly  for  me ;  and  knowing  that  I  had  not 
then  heard  from  home,  sympathized  with  me.  I  requested  her  to  make 
a  memorandum  of  the  date,  and  I  find  it  was  the  evening  when 
Elizabeth  had  first  so  abruptly  mentioned  the  yellow  fever  to  you.* 

I  was  nearly  a  fortnight  in  Baltimore  before  I  discovered  that  the 
yellow  fever  was  raging  in  one  part  of  that  city  ;  for,  mysterious  as  it 
is,  it  is  certain  that  the  infection  is  always  confined  to  districts.  I 
first  discovered  it  by  Wood,  the  manager,  twice  refusing  to  show  me  a 
part  of  the  town  I  was  curious  to  see.  He  refused  peremptorily  to 
walk  that  way ;  and  I  then  said,  "  Well,  I  suppose  you  won't  prevent 
my  walking  there  alone.  There  is  a  turn  in  the  river  in  that  part  so 
beautifully  romantic,  that  I  will  have  a  walk  there."  "  For  God's  sake, 
don't  go  near  it !"  he  cried ;  and  then  the  murder  was  out.  "  It  is  not 
healthy,"  and  so  on.  The  same  pains  were  taken  to  keep  the  news 
from  me  that,  in  a  more  friendly  way,  was  practised  towards  you.  Dr. 
Pattison,  a  Scotsman,  with  whom  I  was  intimate  at  Baltimore,  said 
that  he  had  watched  me  narrowly ;  and,  finding  from  my  health  and 
habits,  that  I  was  not  a  subject  for  it,  believing  also  firmly  that  the 
disease  was  not  infectious,  and  that  it  was  certainly  confined  to  a  part 
of  the  city,  a  mile  and  a  half  from  that  part  in  which  I  lived,  he 
thought  it  better  to  keep  the  fact  from  me  as  long  as  possible,  as  fear 
alone  will  sometimes  occasion  disease. 

The  folly  and  weakness  of  people  here  about  the  fever  can  hardly  be 
described.  An  Irishman  will  as  willingly  confess  that  Dublin  is  a  dirty 
place,  as  an  American  that  the  yellow  fever  is  of  native  origin, — it  is  a 
sore  point ;  it  is  next  to  an  affront,  even  to  Price,  to  say  it  is  contagious. 
Nay,  the  humbug  is  kept  up  for  effect  even  in  letters  written  to  England. 
Price  was  sent  for  post-haste  to  New  York.  He  met  me  afterwards  at 
Philadelphia,  three  days  after  his  time.  I  received  a  letter  informing 
me  that  Simpsonf  was  ill  of  the  pleurisy.  On  his  arrival,  I  said, 
"  Well,  has  Simpson  got  over  the  fever  P'*  "  Who  said  he  had  the 
fever,  sir  ?  It  is  not  true,  sir."  Nothing  could  annoy  him  so  much. 
Not  forty-eight  hours  after,  Mrs.  Price  said,  "  I  am  astonished,  Mr. 

*  My  maid,  who  could  not  resist  preparing  me  for  the  contents  of  her 
master's  first  letter,  as  she  delivered  it,  by  revealing  her  previous  knowledge 
respecting  the  fever. 

f  Mr.  Price's  partner. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  271 

Price,  you  should  join  in  that  absurd  deception  that  the  fever  is  not 
infectious  P"  "  I  do  say  so  still,"  said  he ;  and  in  an  unguarded 
moment,  in  heat  of  argument,  said  afterwards  to  my  great  triumph, 
*'  Was  I  not  almost  two  days  by  Simpson's  bedside,  who  had  it  as  bad 
as  man  could,  and  did  I  catch  it  ?"  Yet  does  he  write  to  Miller  that  it 
has  been  greatly  exaggerated!  The  company  were  all  cautioned  to 
read  pleurisj-  for  fever.  It  was  marvellous  that  the  people  could  be 
induced  to  go  to  the  theatre.  I  suffered  horribly  by  it,  as  you  may 
imagine ;  but  I  may  without  vanity  say  that  I  was  the  only  person 
now  living  who  could  have  brought  houses  during  the  calamity.  You 
can  have  no  notion  of  the  wretchedness  of  the  scene  and  its  associations  ; 
or  the  coolness  with  which  it  is  treated  here.  They  die  at  twelve 
o'clock  on  Tuesday,  and  in  twenty-four  hours  afterwards  they  are 
buried  ;  and  all  sensation  appears  to  cease  with  the  friends  of  the 
parties.  Twice  I  knocked  at  doors  with  letters  of  Washington  Irving 
in  my  hand — "  Mr.  Paterson  at  home  ?"     "  I  guess  he  died  last  night !" 

"  Mr. at  home  ?"  the  same  answer.     Ten  people  at  Baltimore  said 

angrily  to  me,  "  Who  told  you  Robert  Paterson  died  of  yellow  fever  ?" 
I  could  have  said,  the  physician  who  attended  him,  who  laughs  at  your 
self-deception,  but  dares  not  avow  it.  "  I  hope  you  will  come  to 
Washington :  our  city  is  quite  healthy,"  said  several.  I  went ;  George 
was  attacked  with  fever  and  ague  the  moment  he  arrived  there.  It 
was  the  most  unhealthy  of  all  the  United  States.  Can  you  conceive 
such  folly  ?  An  English  surgeon,  who  introduced  himself  to  me,  again 
was  the  exposer.  "  Take  my  advice,  sir,  and  don't  stay  here  long." 
This  was  on  the  second  night  of  my  performance.  On  the  morning 
after,  for  the  first  time,  I  felt  queer.  It  was  nervousness,  I  now  know. 
Mr.  Burke  accompanied  me  in  the  Adolphus  line.  I  went  to  George's 
bedside  at  nine  in  the  morning.  Such  a  spectacle !  "  Have  you 
courage  to  be  moved?"  "Oh!  yes,  sir."  "Can  we  get  a  private 
carriage,  Mr.  Burke?"  (There  are  no  post-chaises  here,  or  horses  on 
the  road.)  "  Yes."  "  To  take  us  thirty-six  miles  to  Baltimore  ?" 
"  Yes ;  but  it  will  delay  you  an  hour,  perhaps  two."  "  Never  mind ;  I 
feel  that  if  I  stay  half  an  hour  in  this  place  I  shall  be  ver}--  ill — at  any 
rate  I  shall  fancy  it.  I  am  shivering  now,  and  the  thermometer  is  above 
80 ;  T  must  entreat  you,  as  you  are  well,  that  you  will  humour  me.  No 
third  night,  if  you  please.  Tell  those  people  who  are  waiting  my 
answer  from  George  Town  I  am  gone — settle  my  bills — wrap  George 
up  in  a  blanket — and  get  away  from  this  place  as  soon  as  you  can — I 
am  oft'!"  and  away  I  went.  I  ran  for  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  till 
I  saw  the  Capitol  behind  me. 

Nothing  can  be  more  healthy  than  this  city  is  now.  Once  more  let 
me  assure  you  that  that  scourge,  the  yellow  fever,  occurs  only  in  the 
middle  of  summer,  and  that  only  in  unusually  hot  seasons.  I  there- 
fore do  not  imagine  that  there  is  any  cause  for  apprehension,  as  I  shall 
leave  the  country  before  the  approach  of  hot  weather,  which  never  sets 
in  till  June.  I  have  dwelt  so  much  upon  feverish  subjects,  that  I  have 
hardly  room  to  give  you  any  theatrical  information ;  but  I  can  truly, 


272  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

though  briefly,  say,  that  I  am  pursuing  a  career  of  great  success.  The 
actual  crowding  has  diminished, — that,  of  course,  must  be  expected ; 
but  I  have  hitherto  exceeded  in  receipts  all  the  stars  that  have  gone 
before  me,  and  my  second  benefit  produced  1200  dollars.  Do  not 
suppose  this  is  falling  off.  It  was  as  great  as  the  first.  Consider  a 
second  advertised  night,  within  a  fortnight  of  the  first.  I  am  hurrying 
off"  from  Boston,  in  consequence  of  circumstances  too  tedious  to  mention. 
The  probabilities  are  that  I  play  there  next  week.  God  bless  you  both, 
my  darlings  !  Pray  keep  up  your  spirits  :  and  believe  me,  when  I  tell 
you  that  I  am  as  cheerful,  contented,  and  happy  as  I  can  be,  so  far 
removed  from  you  both.  Accept,  my  dearest  wife,  the  renewed 
assurances  of  my  steady  and  unalterable  afiection. 

C.  Mathews. 


To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Boston,  Dec.  28tli,  1822. 
I  arrived  here  in  health  and  safety  on  Tuesday,  after  a  "  teagos 
passig,"  when  I  thought  I  never  should  get  to  Providence.  I  was 
advised  by  Price  to  go  by  water,  as  the  most  pleasant  and  convenient, 
on  account  of  my  baggage,  and  that  the  average  passage  was  about 
thirty  or  forty  hours.  I  had  a  horror  of  two  hundred  and  forty  miles 
by  land,  with  the  weather  so  severe  as  it  is  here  now,  and  therefore 
decidedly  preferred  it.  But  the  wind  was  contrary,  and  we  were  from 
Thursday  morning,  nine  o'clock,  until  Monday  evening,  before  we  got 
to  Providence,  where  I  landed,  and  proceeded  forty  miles  by  land, 
and  got  there  time  enough  to  be  too  late,  for  I  was  advertized 
to  appear  on  Monday  evening.  Great  was  the  disappointment  thereof, 
for  numbers  came  sixteen  miles  to  see  me ;  but  I  could  not  possibly 
arrive  till  Tuesday,  though  Phillips  had  cold  beef  ready  for  me,  and 
waited  dinner  on  Sunday.  On  my  arrival  I  found  a  note  from  Manners, 
now  British  consul  at  Boston,  with  whom  I  dined  on  Christmas-day  in 
a  real  English  style.  This  is  a  day  not  universally  observed  in  this 
country,  either  as  to  public  worship,  or  private  jollifications.  As  it  was 
the  26th  in  the  morning  with  you  before  we  had  left  the  dinner-table, 
we  drank  dear  Charley's  health,  and  many  happy  returns  of  the  day. 

On  Tuesday  night  I  made  my  appearance  here  in  Goldfinch  and 
Tonson — the  reception  great,  and  I  was  confirmed  in  my  opinion  that 
Morhleu  is  my  best  part.  They  huzzaed  when  the  curtain  fell.  To 
accommodate  the  disappointed,  who  could  not  get  in,  the  play  and  farce 
were  encored,  and  repeated  last  night  with  equal  effect.  As  I  have  50^. 
per  night  certain,  I  have  not  inquired  the  receipts ;  but  the  theatre  was 
crammed.  It  will  not  hold  quite  a  thousand  dollars,  but  it  was  full. 
This  is  the  place  where  they  were  so  capricious  to  Kean,  and  where  he 
refused  to  act  to  a  bad  house,  which  was  the  cause  of  his  quitting  - 
America;  as  he  never  acted  after.  It  was  for  this  reason  I  preferred 
a  certainty.  You  may  recollect  the  circumstance  of  places  being  sold 
by  auction  j  the  same  thing  occurred  on  Thursday.    No  money  is  taken 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  273 

at  the  doors ;  and,  as  in  Paris,  tickets  are  issued  only  for  the  number 
the  theatre  will  hold.  The  proprietors  bind  the  manager  down  not  to 
sell  one  more  than  the  stipulated  number.  On  great  occasions  (of 
which  only  four  have  occurred,  Cooke,  Phillips,  Kean,  and  myself), 
people  speculate  in  buying  up  tickets.  It  is  mobbing  work  to  purchase 
them.  So  that  the  elbowing  and  overflowing  symptoms  are  displayed 
of  a  morning  instead  of  an  evening.  People  who  dislike  this  ceremony 
as  much  as  I  (remember  "  make  room  for  this  lady  to  come  out !")  em- 
ploy porters,  &c. — brawny  fellows — chairmen,  who  frequently  remain 
there  all  night.  When  they  have  purchased  a  number  of  tickets  at  a 
dollar  each,  they  will  sell  them  to  the  highest  bidder ;  and  four  or  six 
dollars  are  sometimes  given.  Last  night  was  a  proof  that  the  theatre 
is  not  large  enough  for  great  occasions,  as  a  repeated  performance 
refilled  the  house,  and  fellows  took  their  station  at  twelve  o'clock  on 
Thursday  night,  and  remained  till  the  box-door  opened  to-day. 
Nothing  can  be  more  rapturous  than  my  reception  ;  and  having  made 
my  hit  here,  the  thing  is  established  beyond  reach  of  alarm  or  suspicion. 
The  Bostonians  have  given  themselves  a  name  as  critics,  and  it  is  said 
by  themselves,  that  this  is  more  like  an  English  town  than  any  in 
America, — more  literary  people,  better  polished ;  and  larger  cities  look 
up  much  to  their  opinion.  Kean,  in  one  of  his  speeches  from  the  stage, 
called  it  the  literary  emporium.  I  shall  stay  here  nearly  a  month  longer, 
and  then  back  to  New  York. 

I  can  hardly  hold  my  pen.  You  have  never  seen  ice,  nor  felt  frost. 
My  water-jug  was  frozen  this  morning.  The  ice  was  so  thick  that  I 
could  not  break  it  with  one  of  the  legs  of  a  chair.  I  am,  thank  God, 
so  well  that  I  bear  it  better  than  the  natives  decidedly. 

C.  Mathews. 


To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Boston,  Jan.  4th,  1823. 
Happy  new  year  to  you  and  dear  Charles,  and  may  this  meet  you  in 
good  health  and  spirits  as  it  leaves  me  !  I  ought  to  consider  myself, 
as  indeed  I  do,  one  of  the  most  fortunate  of  men  in  respect  to  consti- 
tution. I  appear  to  be  almost  the  only  person  here  that  is  not  cut 
down  by  the  severity  of  the  climate.  We  know  nothing  of  winter. 
The  English  who  have  been  here  two  or  three  years  can  hardly  endure 
it.  The  first  season,  it  appears,  they  stood  it  well.  I  have  not  suffered 
at  all.  It  is  a  curious  and  very  novel  scene,  to  witness  the  sleighs 
here.  They  are  carriages,  of  various  sizes  and  descriptions,  placed  upon 
iron  runners  without  wheels,  which  they  use  as  long  as  snow  remains 
upon  the  ground.  They  even  go  long  journeys  in  them.  Some  of 
them  are  in  the  shape  of  a  balloon  car,  and  go  with  immense  velocity. 
As  they  make  no  noise,  small  bells  are  placed  on  the  horses'  heads  to 
give  notice  of  approach,  so  that  this  town  is  one  continued  scene  ot 
what  some  would  call  merriment.    But  as  neither  small  nor  large  bells 

T 


27-*  THE  LIFE  AND  COREESPONDENCE  OF 

can  convey  such  a  sentiment  to  me,  I  have  no  other  idea  but  a"  dis-* 
agreeable  ringing  in  my  ears.  If  the  poor  horses  are  annoyed  as  I  am, 
I  pity  them.  There  is  "  great  patronage  here  of  me ;"  yes,  indeed  1 
On  Wednesday  night  a  full  house,  notwithstanding  most  terrific  snow 
from  morning  till  night ;  a  white  chaos.  It  was  indeed  a  compliment. 
I  shall  be  here  nearly  three  weeks  more. 

C.  Mathews. 


To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Boston,  Jan.  7th,  1823. 

I  am  going  on  greatly ;  and  have  still  the  happiness  of  reporting  to 
you  my  excellent  health  in  this,  I  may  call  it,  most  terrific  climate ; 
the  thermometer  this  morning  was  two  degrees  below  zero,  I  have 
heard  a  black  preacher,  who  was  rather  amusing.  The  pranks  that 
are  played  in  the  "nigger  meetings,"  as  they  are  called,  are  beyond 
belief — yelling,  screeching,  and  groaning,  resembling  a  fox  chase  much 
more  than  a  place  of  worship. 

To-day  nineteen  dollars  were  paid  for  a  box !  for  the  first  night  of 
my  "  Trip  to  Paris,"  to-morrow ;  and  so  on,  14 — 12 — 10,  according  to 
the  situation ;  and  the  overplus  is  given  to  a  theatrical  fund.  So  that 
I  shall  do  some  good  here,  at  any  rate.  Notwithstanding  all  this,  the 
theatre  is  small  compared  to  New  York,  and  I  feel  I  am  right  in  taking 
a  certainty. 

C.  Mathews. 


To  Mrs.  Rolls. 

Boston,  Massachusetts, — New  England, — United  States, — America: 
Jan.  4th,  1823. 

My  dear  Feiends, — Though  all  your  efforts,  and  all  the  recollections 
of  your  former  kindness,  could  not  squeeze  one  line  out  of  me  in  Europe, 
I  write  from  the  New  World  in  full  and  fervent  hopes  of  mercy,  of  for- 
giveness of  past  injuries,  and  that  when  I  confess  my  sins  to  you,  I 
shall  not  plead  for  pardon  in  vain.  I  suppose  you  have  heard  from  my 
wife  of  the  untimely  fate  of  the  only  letter  I  have  written  to  you  for  a 
long  period.  It  was  a  good  one — it  was  indeed !  and  ver}'-  long  too.  I 
cannot  write  such  another  now.  I  was  then  surrounded  by  those  I 
love  ;  I  can't  quite  say  that  now.  I  wrote  that  said  letter  to  make  my 
peace  with  you  before  I  left  the  Old  World ;  and  by  some  accidental  fit 
of  absence,  though  I  wrote  it  for  the  purpose  of  my  son  taking  it  with 
him  from  Liverpool  to  forward  to  you,  I  locked  it  up  in  my  desk  and 
took  it  to  sea;  nor  did  I  discover  the  mistake  until  a  week  after  I 
sailed.  A  vessel  hove  in  sight.  "  A  Frenchman !"  said  our  captain. 
He  hailed  us  : — 

"  Whither  bound  ?"— "  Havre  de  Grace." 

"  What  is  the  name  of  your  sheep  /" — "  William  Thompson  !** 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  27$ 

"  What  is  the  capetaine's  name  ?" — "  William  Thompson  !'* 

"  What  is  the  owner's  name  ?" — "  William  Thompson !" 

"  Have  you  some  lady  on  board  ?" — "  Yes." 

"  What  is  her  name  ?'"— "  Mrs.  Thompson  !" 

*'  Diable  !"  was  roared  through  the  trumpet,  to  the  great  amusement 
of  our  crew.  He  then  consented  to  come  near  enough  to  us  for  the 
letter  to  be  thrown  on  board  which  I  had  written  to  you.  A  weight 
was  attached  to  it ;  but  alas !  the  marksman  failed.  The  mate  under- 
took to  throw  it  clean  into  the  French  vessel ;  but  it  fell  short  a  yard 
or  two,  and  my  long,  laborious,  clever,  and  very  entertaining  letter  met 
a  watery  grave ! 

I  arrived  at  New  York  after  a  very  pleasant  passage  of  thirty-five 
days,  on  the  5th  of  September.  I  presume  you  have  heard  from  my 
wife  of  the  unfortunate  circumstances  under  which  I  landed.  I  have 
seen  accounts  in  the  English  papers  of  the  yellow  fever  in  America,  and 
of  course  they  have  reached  you  in  Paris.  I  will  flatter  myself,  though 
I  am  not  entitled  to  your  thoughts,  that  you  felt  for  my  situation. 
Nothing  could  be  more  appalling  than  the  intelligence  as  first  commu- 
nicated to  me  by  two  fishermen,  about  a  hundred  miles  from  New 
York.  "  What  news  ?" — "  Yellow  fever  at  New  York,  I  guess." — 
"  Fatal  ?" — "  I  reckon  it  is  P" — "  Many  deaths  ?" — "  One  hundred  and 
forty  every  twenty-four  hours,  I  suppose." — ^'  Have  the  inhabitants 
remained  ?" — "  Fifty  thousand,  or  somewheres  thereaways,  have  quit 
right  away." — The  number  of  deaths  was  an  exaggeration  ;  but  we 
found  quite  enough  of  the  intelligence  true  to  induce  me  to  give  up  all 
thoughts  of  going  on  shore  in  the  city. 

As  we  approached  the  harbour,  the  desolating  effects  of  the  pestilence 
were  too  apparent  to  render  the  fisherman's  tale  doubtful.  The  quays 
of  the  city  are  very  commodious ;  and,  as  I  have  since  seen  them, 
greatly  calculated  to  impress  a  stranger  with  notions  of  wealth,  ex- 
tended commerce,  bustle,  and  activity.  Imagine  the  effect  of  a  sabbath- 
like silence  in  such  a  situation  to  those  who  could  contrast  its  present 
quiet  with  its  former  life.  Imagine  (though  we  have  no  quays  to  allow 
the  comparison),  but  suppose  from  the  Thames,  or  one  of  the  bridges, 
that  you  could  look  at  the  banks  of  the  river,  and  into  the  streets, 
thence  to  the  Strand,  and  that  no  one  inhabitant  was  to  be  seen 
between  Westminster  and  Blackfriars;  you  may  then  form  some 
notion  of  the  melancholy  scene  that  presented  itself  to  my  eyes,  with 
all  its  distressing  associations.  Pompeii  could  not  be  more  awfully 
still ;  for  one  quarter  of  the  city  was,  by  general  command,  depopulated. 
This  was  called  the  infected  district.  "  I  fled  for  safety  and  for  succour" 
to  Baltimore,  where  I  made  my  dehut  about  three  weeks  after  my 
arrival.  This  was  commencing  operations  at  Doncaster,  instead  of 
making  the  impression  in  London,  I  spent  nearly  ten  days  before  I 
discovered  that  the  fever  raged  there  also,  and  more  fatally ;  but  it  was 
cautiously  concealed  from  strangers,  and  passed  under  another  name — 
the  fatal  visitor  had  an  alias.  I  will  not  attempt  to  enter  into  the 
causes  of  this  disgusting  fact,  but  be  assured  of  its  truth.     While  the 

T  2 


276  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

magistracy  and  Board  of  Health  of  New  York  proclaimed  the  ravages 
of  the  disease,  and  warned  strangers  from  approaching  their  shores, 
the  Baltimorians  received  strangers  with  open  arms,  and  proclaimed 
that  their  city  was  healthy !  Nay,  the  press  of  the  two  cities  entered 
into  a  kind  of  party  controversy,  and  twitted  each  other  with  the  pesti- 
lence, as  if  it  were  a  political  error,  for  which  the  government  ought  to 
be  rendered  accountable-  Notwithstanding  this  calamity,  I  opened  to 
a  great  house.  The  second  and  third  were  equally  good  ;  but  they  fell 
off.  How  is  thisP  At  length,  pride  and  good  feeling  towards  me 
(added  to  my  reading  in  a  Baltimore  paper  weekly  report  of  deaths — 
**  Palsy,  1;  ague,  4 ;  bilious  malignant  fever,  46;")  brought  farther 
truth.  I  was  congratulated  on  my  1000  dollar  benefit.  Prodigious  ! 
under  all  circumstances, — coming  at  such  a  time.  **  How  ?" — "  Why, 
sir,  our  epidemic." — "  Oh,  oh !  I  begin  to  perceive.  But  why  don't 
you  call  it  by  its  proper  name?"  Mark  one  answer — "Ah,  the  New 
York  people  can  afford  to  lose  their  trade  for  one  year.  Baltimore  has 
suffered  too  much;  we  can't  afford  to  drive  away  merchants  and 
strangei's  at  this  time  of  the  year."  I  leave  your  imagination  to  fill 
up  the  rest  of  the  canvas ;  you  can  fully  understand  what  were  my 
sensations  when  I  discovered  the  dreadful  truth. 

My  success  at  New  York  was  triumphant ;  during  sixteen  nights 
great  houses;  from  1200  to  1800  dollars  nightly;  a  most  joyous 
audience;  and  the  attentions  paid  me  in  private  have  been  equally 
flattering.  The  upper  orders  of  society  are  very  pleasing,  and  infinitely 
more  polished  than  it  is  the  fashion  to  believe  in  Europe.  They  have 
less  fun  than  the  grave  English ;  not  a  very  quick  perception  of  humour, 
and  are  apparently  dead  to  the  fascinations  of  puiming.  Their  gravity 
almost  amounts  to  melancholy ;  and  therefore  it  is  hopeless  to  expect 
sport  in  fishing  for  character.  I  have  thrown  many  lines  into  their 
calm  unruffled  streams,  and  have  not  been  negligent  in  attending  to 
the  nicety  of  my  baits,  but  I  have  not  caught  anything.  I  should 
have  been  delighted  at  a  bite,  but  I  have  not  even  been  solaced  by  a 
nibble.  However,  I  have  not  thrown  away  my  hooks  in  despair ;  my 
rods  are  not  yet  laid  by  for  the  season. 

As  to  the  lower  orders,  I  know  not  where  they  are  to  be  found.  I 
know  no  bait  that  will  tempt  them  from  their  lurking-places.  The 
servants,  waiters,  porters,  &c.,  are  nearly  all  "niggars;"  the  hackney- 
coachmen  nearly  all  Irish  or  Scotch.  There  are  apparently  no  poor — 
certainl}'  no  beggars.  The  American  is  too  proud  and  independent  to 
accept  a  menial  situation.  He  will  not  be  called  servant,  nor  allow 
that  he  has  a  master.  As  to  liberty  and  independence,  "  rare  words," 
I  am  convinced  that  it  is  only  productive  of  one  very  apparent  effect, 
which  is,  to  render  the  rich  and  educated  slaves  to  their  inferiors ;  at 
least,  to  their  absurd  notions.  I  dare  say  you  have,  amongst  others  of 
my  friends,  wondered  why  I  should  go  to  America.  It  was  an  irre- 
sistible impulse.  If  I  am  to  believe  a  clergyman  of  the  Dutch 
Reformed  Church,  who  has  been  preaching  at  me  because  I  perform  to 
fuller  houses  than  he  does,  I  could  not  possibly  avoid  it,  as  I  was  sent 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  277 

here  for  a  special  purpose.  This  gentleman  undertakes  to  point  out 
the  causes  of  the  late  calamity,  and  pretends  to  have  discovered  the 
sins  that  have  excited  the  vengeance  of  the  Great  Creator.  -  I  have 
been  here  about  a  fortnight,  and  shall  remain  three  weeks  longer ;  then 
to  New  York,  and  thence  to  Philadelphia.  If  you  should  be  inclined 
to  treat  a  poor  fellow  with  a  letter,  which  will  be  doubly  dear  to  him 
from  its  journeying  three  thousand  miles,  why  so — it  will  be  well 
received.  How  difficult  it  is  to  fancy  the  situation  of  those  who  are 
dear  to  us,  at  such  a  distance  !  Well,  well !  I  must  hope  and  hopGj 
and  look  forward  to  that  delicious  moment  when  I  may  pop  upon  you 
all  once  more.  I  see  you  all  now,  I  do.  Oh,  how  I  should  like  to 
open  a  door  slily  this  afternoon,  and  say,  "  Ah  !"  to  those  dear  little 
roarers  that  were  wont  to  be  such  an  audience  at  Briton  Ferry  !  God 
bless  them  all !  and  you,  my  dear  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Rolls,  and  Mrs.  Barnet, 
and  Miss  Sherrat.  Remember  me  kindly  to  everybody ;  and  bo 
assured,  that  though  I  have  been  silent,  you  have  always  been  present 
to  my  sweetest  recollections,  and  that  I  am,  and  always  shall  be,  most 
gratefully  and  sincerely  yours, 

C.  Mathews, 
Thermometer  two  degrees  below  zero. 


To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Boston,  Jan.  12th,  1823,  alias  Frozen  Regions. 
If  you  can  hold  a  pen,  dare  to  go  from  one  room  to  another,  or  to 
open  your  mouth  without  the  fear  of  your  words  being  frozen  up — if 
you  can  exert  any  of  your  energies,  then  pity  me  as  I  envy  you  in  such 
a  case.  This  is  the  most  trying  climate  that  I  ever  imagined.  In 
short,  all  you  have  read  of  Russia  will  applj'  to  it.  The  water  jug, 
Irom  which  I  had  taken  water  to  wash  my  hands  at  four  o'clock,  was 
frozen  at  seven  so  hard  that  I  could  not  break  it.  I  bear  it  as  well  as 
can  be  expected — that  is  to  say,  I  have  not  had  the  slightest  symptom 
of  cold.  I  have  gone  through  my  work  with  health  and  strength ;  but 
I  cannot  go  out,  for  I  am  afraid  to  walk,  and  have  no  desire  to  try 
their  sleighing — for  sleighing  and  killing' are  synonymous  terms  with 
me.  I  have  once  or  twice  experienced  the  sensation  in  their  hacks 
here,  which  are  taken  off  their  wheels  and  placed  upon  runners,  as  they 
call  them,  for  not  one  pair  of  wheels  is  to  be  seen  in  the  town.  Indeed, 
they  could  not  possibly  get  through  the  accumulation  of  snow.  These 
people  are  all  happy,  and  as  merry  as  Americans  can  affect  to  be — that 
vexes  me,  who  can  only  make  myself  happy  by  anticipating  a  thaw, 
and  death  to  their  mad  frolics  in  their  sleighs.  They  whisk  along  at 
about  the  rate  of  twelve  miles  an  hour,  and  in  open  carriages  like  the 
half  of  a  boat.  So  fond  are  they  of  the  sport,  that  it  is  common  for 
parties  to  go  out  at  night  ten  or  fifteen  miles  to  adjacent  villages, 
dance  there,  and  then  return  in  these  open  sleighs.  Funny  people ! 
they  declare  it  is  right  arnest  fun.  1  believe  it  is  all  they  enjoy  j  so 
rest  them  merry  I  * 


278  THE  LIFj:  AND  COREESPONDENCE  OF 

The  society  here  (the  upper  ranks — I  have  literally  had  no  intercourse 
with  any  other)  is  quite  delightful.  Washington  Irving's  letters  here 
•afforded  two  or  three  delightful  days.  At  two  houses  in  particular,  I 
will  boldly  say,  that  in  no  part  of  the  world  where  I  have  travelled 
have  I  seen  "the  thing  done  in  better  style,"  as  they  say  in  England, 
as  to  dinners,  servants,  furniture,  literary  conversation,  &o.  It  is 
impossible,  however  prejudiced  a  man  may  be,  to  leave  one  of  the 
•houses  of  the  first  people  here,  or  at  New  York,  and  make  such  remarks 

^s did.     A  man  might  with  equal  justice  speak  of  Irish  manners 

generally  from  the  specimens  of  it  among  Dublin  shopkeepers.  Talking 
of  Irish  manners  puts  me  in  mind  of  English  Manners.  He  is  consul 
liere,  and  as  I  met  him  wherever  I  went  in  old  times,  of  course  we  had 
plenty  to  say  to  each  other.  He  has  a  very  pleasant  familj'',  and  is  a 
great  solace  to  me  during  this  miserable  weather. 

The  "  Trip  to  Paris"  made  an  immense  hit  here,  and  places  for  the 
second  night  of  it,  to-morrow,  were  sold  b}'  auction  yesterday  at  from 
,3-2  to  17  dollars  for  the  first  choice.  This  is  the  place  where  Kean  lost 
himself.  He  had  first  complimented  them  in  a  speech,  and  called  the 
city  the  literary  emporium  of  the  New  Word,  and  afterwards  got 
drunk,  and  would  not  play  to  a  thin  house.  I  have  beat  Kean  here  in 
receipts. 

C.  Mathews. 


To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Boston,  Jan.  29th,  1823> 

Here  I  am  still  at  Boston.  This  is  my  last  night.  I  wish  you  could 
see  me  play  Monsieur  Tonson ;  it  is  certainly  the  very  best  thing  I 
ever  did.  It  is  such  a  favourite  here  that  I  am  pressed  to  take  it  for 
my  benefit.  In  this  place  so  many  persons  will  not  go  to  a  theatre, 
who  still  wish  to  see  me,  that  I  am  invited  to  give  a  night  in  a  concert 
hall,  which  I  am  told  will  be  greatly  attended.  No  clergyman  dare  to 
go  to  a  theatre  here,  but  they  will  patronize  me  in  a  room  ;  and  so,  in 
compliance  with  this  request,  on  Friday  night  I  operate.  You  make 
me  envy  you,  when  you  describe  the  beautiful  weather  you  have.  The 
severity  of  the  frost  here  is  beyond  anything  a  European  can  fancy. 

When  our  Thames  is  frozen  over,  the  event  is  commemorated  by 
;fairs,  and  bills  printed  on  the  surface  of  the  ice ;  here,  the  rivers,  five 
or  six  times  as  broad  as  the  Thames,  are  always  frozen  in  the  winter, 
and  navigation  is  entirely  suspended.  I  have  borne  the  climate  won- 
derfully, and  am  the  amazement  of  the  natives,  who  are  all  enveloped 
in  warm  wrappings  of  every  description.  I  am  more  confirmed  than 
ever  in  my  objection  to  that  system. 

By  the  packet  of  the  8th  of  February  I  shall  send  money  to 
.Stephenson.  My  first  note  to  Arnold  is  due  in  March,  it  is  for  1200^. 
I  shall  send  from  that  sum  to  2000/.,  according  to  the  state  of  the 
vjnoney  market  when  I  get  to  New  York ;  this  I  promised  him  should 
be  arranged  with  you.     It  is  a  melancholy  refiection  that  I  shall 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  279 

probably  not  hear  a  remark  from  you  on  this  subject  until  nearly  May, 
but  I  must  endure  it.     I  am  in  the  best  of  health,  thank  God ! 

Charles  Lamb's  account  of  my  gallery  has  been  copied  into  an 
English  newspaper  here,  called  the  Albion,  and  so  has  the  scrap  you 
sent  me,  calling  me  such  funny  names — "  Co"  "  Kaleidoscope,"  &c. 

My  time  here  has  been  spent  in  such  uniformity,  that  you  must 
excuse  the  dulness  of  my  epistles.  Rehearsals  with  pumps— all 
morning — three  nights  playing — dining  out,  &c.  My  own  "At 
Home"  has  hit  much  harder  here  than  at  New  York,  and  is  preferred 
to  the  acting ;  there  it  was  vice  versd.  The  localities  are  the  chief 
drawbacks,  as  you  may  suppose.  My  own  "  Youthful  Days"  is  the 
chief  favourite ;  and  the  Volunteer  Song  produces  effect,  for  it  is  said 
to  be  the  exact  representation  of  a  similar  scene  here — where  there  are 
no  regulars.  I  can  gather  from  that  how  joyous  they  would  be  if  the 
scenes  #ere  all  equally  familiar  to  them.     Remember  me  to  everybody. 

C.  Mathews. 

The  scrap  alluded  to  in  the  foregoing  letter,  calling  him 
"  such  funny  names,"  &c.,  was  taken  from  a  work  called 
"  Theatrical  Portraits,"  &c.,  by  Harry  Sloe  Van  Dyk.  The  lines 
are  eccentric,  and  very  expressive  as — 

"A  PORTRAIT  OF  MATHEWS. 

**  What  shall  we  call  thee,  thou  amusing  elf, 
Who  hast  a  host  of  beings  in  thyself  ? 
Who  canst  vaiiety  in  all  infuse, 
And  changest  hke  the  expiring  dolphin's  hues, 
Or  skies  in  April  ?     Say,  what  term  would  be 
Appropriate,  thou  world's  epitome  ? 
Thou  ambulating  rainbow  !     Fitful  hope  ! 
Thou  earthly  moon  !     Thou  live  kaleidoscope  ! 
Thou  twenty  voices  !     Antidote  to  woe  ! 
Thou  one  plurality  !     Thou  single  Go.  !"* 


*  During  this  year  was  also  published,  in  Oxford,  what  I  have  been  told  is 
an  ingenious  parody  on  some  of  the  Sapphics  of  Horace,  headed — 

<' MATHEWS  COMICI  LAUDES. 

**  Prime  mimorum  !  thou  rare  mimic  Mathews  ! 

Quem  jocus  circum  volat,  blithe  as  Mayday, 
.  Te  canant  gownsmen,  giddy  and  grave  too, 
All  over  Oxford. 

Tu  potes  proctors  comitesque  bull  dogs 
Ducere,  et  redcoats  celeres  morari ; 
E'en  the  stern  masters  tibi  blandienti 

Smilingly  cedunt. 


280  THE  LIFE  AND  CORKESPONDENCE  OF 

Quin  et  each  high  don  sociique  vultu 
Titter  invito  'mid  the  gay  assemblage ; 
Shouts  of  applause  rise  rapid,  dum  catervas 

Carmine  mulces. 
Tu,  merry  fellow,  velut  es  levamen 
To  the  pale  forms  whose  final  doom  approaches ; 
Who,  cito  coram  solio  Minervae 

Shuddering  will  stand. 

Fell  are  her  Priests  !     Quum  Vitulos  prehendant 

Singulos  eheu  !  lacerant  in  pieces  ! 

Hi  tamen  mites  sweetly  gaze  at  Mathews 

Full  of  his  frolics. 
Serus  in  Lunnum  redeas,  diuque 
Gratus  intersis  populo  togato  ! 
Leave  the  dull  Cockneys,  with  us  to  be  *  At  Home,'  sir ! 

Go  it  in  Oxford!" 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  281- 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

Interview  at  Boston  between  Mr.  Mathews  and  an  old  friend  of  his  father^ 
Letter  from  that  gentleman  to  Mr.  Mathews — Letters  to  Mrs.  Mathews — 
Letter  from  Mr.  Mathews  to  Mr.  James  Smith  ;  the  American  character ; 
inordinate  love  of  petty  titles;  Yankee  conversation;  independent  land- 
lords ;  conversation  with  an  American  Boniface ;  a  black  Methodist ;  Negro 
songs — Letters  to  Mrs.  Mathews — Preparations  for  return  to  England. 

While  my  husband  was  at  Boston,  an  old  friend  of  his  father 
introduced  himself  to  him.  He  was  a  dissenting  minister,  and 
one  of  those  who  enforced  their  opinions  by  the  mildness  and 
liberality  of  their  language  and  manner.  Such  a  one,  with  all 
my  husband's  early  distaste  of  the  unwashed  part  of  the  com- 
munity, he  received  with  more  than  common  respect  and  atten-r 
tion  ;  and  a  verv^  long  and  interesting  interview  took  place.  A 
few  days  after,  Mr.  Mathews  being  on  the  eve  of  his  departure 
for  New  York,  the  following  interesting  and  amiable  letter  was 
delivered  to  him  from  Mr.  Sabine,  the  clergyman  alluded  to, 
and  much  I  regret  that  I  do  not  possess  a  copy  of  the  answer 
to  it ; — 

To  C,  Mathews,  Esq. 

Boston,  N.  E.,  Elliot-street,  Feb.  1st,  1823. 

My  dear  Sie, — The  half-hour's  conversation  with  which  you 
favoured  me  the  other  day,  has  brought  so  many  "  things  of  other 
days"  to  my  mind,  that  I  cannot  persuade  myself  to  dismiss  you  and 
them  without  tendering  again  my  best  wishes  for  your  happiness  and 
prosperity,  I  have  taken  the  liberty  also  to  send  you  a  sermon, 
preached  by  me  on  the  last  State  thanksgiving-day.  I  have  so  done 
for  two  reasons :  first,  you  will  receive  it  on  Sundaj' — perhaps  you 
will  be  grave  enough  to  give  a  sermon  a  reading  on  such  a  day,  espe- 
cially as  it  is  one  sent  you  by  a  countryman ;  and  then,  there  is  some- 
thing in  it  directly  on  the  subject  to  which  we  alluded  when  we  con- 
versed on  the  New  England  character.  In  this  particular,  New 
England  people  and  English  Dissenters  are  much  alike. 

The  theatre  has  never  received,  and  perhaps  will  never  receive  much 
support  from  them.  The  views  and  feelings  of  your  good  old  father 
(now  in  a  happier  world,)  are  too  well  known  to  you  to  render  it 


282  THE  LIF5  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

necessary  for  me  to  add  another  word  on  that  head.  The  patronage, 
however,  which  you  have  enjoyed  in  this  grave  city,  must  prove  to  you 
that  there  are  many  so  far  weaned  from  the  prejudices  and  habits  of 
the  old  folks,  as  to  relish  the  wit  and  mirth  of  the  English  stage.  Yet, 
still  I  am  under  a  persuasion,  that  a  more  moral  and  sober  age  is  too 
fast  advancing  upon  us  to  admit  of  theatrical  success  in  this  region.  I 
should  not  wonder  if  Boston  Theatre,  before  the  lapse  of  seven  years, 
were  in  the  hands  of  the  religious  community,  and  converted  into  a 
church.  Would  it  fill  ypu  with  any  regret  should  you  hear,  a  few  years 
hence,  when  mellowing  into  age,  that  your  countryman  was  calling 
them  to  repentance  and  to  tears  on  that  very  spot  on  which  you  iit 
younger  days  made  so  many  laugh,  and  forget  almost  that  they  were 
immortal  ?  And  how  delighted  should  I  be  to  hear  that  you  had  with- 
drawn so  much  wit  and  talent  from  the  focus  of  public  amusement — 
for  your  quota  I  am  sure  you  have  amply  rendered — and  directed  them, 
even  at  your  term  of  life,  to  a  more  moral  purpose.  I  am  not,  my 
dear  sir,  dealing  out  censure,  I  am  rather  as  a  Christian  asking  the 
residue  of  your  powers  to  be  engaged  in  a  service  which  will  repay  you^ 
and  the  world,  too,  a  thousandfold  beyond  all  that  has  been  rendered 
hitherto  in  the  former  course.  A  man  of  your  turn  cannot  fall  back 
upon  himself,  and  feast  on  private  life ;  you  must,  to  old  age,  be  a 
public  man.  I  would  that  that  taste  for  public  benefit  should  at  length 
be  consecrated  to  religion  and  the  immortal  interests  of  men.  Will 
you  not  be  persuaded  again  to  visit  the  Holy  Land,  and  review  the 
records  of  apostolic  acts,  to  allow  yourself  to  be  charmed  with  the 
astonishing  effects  produced  by  the  powers  of  a  single  disciple  of  our 
Saviour,  who  at  one  exhibition  of  his  talents  (endued  with  power  from 
on  high,  it  is  true)  captivated  three  thousand,  and  made  them  his  stated 
attendants,  which  Mr.  Mathews  has  never  yet  done,  but  much  like 
which  he  may  do,  if  he  can  address  by  the  same  rule  and  speak  the 
same  thing. 

When  I  began  this  scrawl  I  had  not  measured  out  this  drift,  but,  as 
it  has  gone,  so  you  will  take  it,  as  coming  out  of  the  right  place — a  good 
and  honest  heart.  What  I  intended  to  have  said  was  this  .—If  you 
should  be  disposed  to  hear  a  sermon,  and  should  be  able  to  reach 
Boylston  Hall  in  the  afternoon,  you  may  hear  a  preacher  somewhat 
after  the  fashion  of  your  good  old-fashioned  father,  whose  memory  I 
revere,  and  whom  I  should  gladly  serve  in  the  person  of  his  son.  May 
a  gracious  Providence  preserve  you  from  all  evil,  and  in  due  time 
restore  you  to  your  country  and  to  your  family,  and  add  to  you  every 
other  blessing  for  both  worlds  !  prays,  my  dear  sir. 

Yours  respectfully  and  affectionately,        James  Sabine. 


To  Mrs.  Mathews, 

New  York,  Feb.  7th,  1823. 
Here  I  am  once  more  in  New  York,  at  my  old  quarters,  comfortably 
lodged.     I  left  Boston  on  Sunda}^  and  arrived  here  yesterday,  two 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  283 

hundred  and  forty  miles.  Thermometer  eight  degrees  below  zero ! 
Most  fortunately,  a  gentleman  (reall}'  a  gentleman)  and  his  wife,*  a 
colonel,  and  naval  officer,  had  hired  a  coach  to  themselves.  I  was 
invited  to  johi  the  party.  Chartering  a  stage-coach  here  is  the  only 
imitation  the  Americans  have  of  posting.  It  means  merel}'^,  that  you 
keep  out  all  passengers  by  paying  for  the  whole  coach,  and  stop  when 
and  where  you  like.  No  language  can  convey  to  you  the  horrors  of 
travelling  in  this  country.  Though  their  winters  are  like  Siberia, 
because  their  summers  are  like  the  East  Indies,  they  only  provide  them- 
selves against  heat.  I  don't  believe  there  is  a  carriage  in  the  country 
covered  all  over  so  as  to  keep  out  the  air.  All  descriptions  of  carriages 
are  open  in  summer,  and  they  have  only  temporary  covering  for  winter. 
No  panels  like  ours.  It  is  impossible,  therefore,  to  be  warm.  The 
houses,  generally  speaking,  are  of  the  same  description.  I  slept  in  a 
bed  on  the  road  without  even  posts  for  curtains — a  regular  hospital-bed  ; 
but  not  so  good  as  those  in  St.  George's  Hospital.  There  was  no  fire- 
place in  the  room.  When  I  arose  in  the  morning,  I  was  obliged  to  call 
one  of  our  party  to  button  my  waistcoat,  my  fingers  were  completely 
frost-bitten.  With  all  this  the  atmosphere  is  delightfully  cheering  ;  an 
Italian  sky,  and  days  without  even  a  cloud.  You  know  how  valuable 
this  is  to  me,  and  when  I  can  be  in  action  I  bear  the  climate  well. 
The  wretched  English  who  have  been  lured  here,  and  have  not  the 
means  of  getting  back,  are  pictures  of  misery  and  despair.  The  second 
and  third  year  is  sure  to  make  inroads  on  their  constitution.  They  all 
bear  the  first  summer  and  winter  well.  I  am  much  delighted  to  find 
Elliston  has  been  so  attentive  to  you. 

I  enclose  you  a  bill  for  2000Z.  sterling,  which  I  wish  to  be  sent  to 
Rowland  Stephenson  the  moment  you  receive  it.  I  wrote  you  by  the 
1st  February  packet  to  apprise  you  of  the  note  to  Arnold  for  1200/. 
being  due  in  March  .f  It  is  to  be  taken  out  of  the  sum  inclosed.  I 
send  this  directed  to  Mr.  Freeling;  and,  by  the  time  I  get  your 
acknowledgment  of  it,  I  shall  be  thinking  of  moving  towards  Europe. 
God  bless  you  and  my  dear  boy, 

C.  Mathews. 

The  following  letter  to  his  friend,  Mr.  James  Smith,  gives  a 
lively  view  of  what  my  husband  had  observed  in  his  American 
tour : — 

To  James  Smith,  Esq. 

Philadelphia,  Feb.  23rd,  1823. 

My  dear  Smith, — I  Imagine  by  this  time  you  begin  to  be  a  little 

impatient,  and  perhaps  anxious  to  hear  from  me,  though  I  must  suppose 

you  have  made  every  allowance  for  my  apparent  neglect.     You  have 

doubtless  heard  of  the  calamitous  circumstances  under  which  I  landed 

*  Mr.  and  Mrs.  W.  H.  Eliot  of  Boston. 
+  It  will  be  remembered  that  Mr.  Mathews  had  engaged  to  pay  Mr.  Arnold 
2000^.,  besides  au  additional  season,  for  his  permission  to  visit  Amex-ica. 


28^  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OP 

in  this  country,  and  you  will  readily  believe  that  it  was  a  most  unpro* 
pitious  time  to  extract  anything  like  fun  or  humour  from  the  natives, 
even  had  they  possessed  as  much  as  the  Irish.  America  was,  at  the 
time  of  my  arrival,  a  huge  hospital,  and  conversation  a  mere  medical 
report.  My  "  commercial  speculations"  have  been  completely  deranged, 
and  though  not  destroyed,  very  materially  injured.  It  was  not  till  the 
frost  set  in,  that  I  could  discover  even  a  smile  on  any  of  the  naturally 
saturnine  grave  visages  of  the  natives.  You  may  suppose  that  I  was 
not  much  disposed  to  mirth  myself,  or  to  draw  it  from  others,  during 
such  a  visitation.  This  has  naturally  tended  to  delay  me  in  those 
observations  which  I  should  otherwise  have  immediately  commenced^ 
on  the  habits  and  peculiarities  of  the  Americans.  At  the  same  time  it 
is  my  belief,  that  had  I  arrived  after  a  successful  war,  and  during 
rejoicings  for  peace,  instead  of  days  of  mourning  and  sickness,  I  should 
not  have  discovered  much  more  of  merriment  of  character,  humour,  or 
any  one  ingredient  of  which  I  was  in  search,  and  which  is  now,  in 
fact,  the  chief  motive  of  my  longer  stay  in  the  country. 

It  will  require  all  your  ingenuity,  all  your  fancy  (and  more  than  ever 
I  possessed),  to  find  real  materials  in  this  country  for  a  humorous 
entertainment.  There  is  such  a  universal  sameness  of  manner  and 
character,  so  uniform  a  style  of  walking  and  looking,  of  dressing  and 
thinking,  that  I  really  think  I  knew  as  much  of  them  in  October  as  I 
know  of  them  now  in  February.  The  real  unadulterated  natives  are 
only  one  remove  from  the  Quakers :  they  never  joke  themselves,  and 
they  cannot  see  it  in  others.  They  would  stare  at  you  as  a  white 
wonder ;  and  be  perfectly  amazed  how  any  man  under  a  hundred  yeara 
of  age,  could  possibly  have  collected  so  many  good  jokes,  for  they 
would  be  utterly  incredulous  that  a  man  could  utter  his  own  wit.  As 
they  have  never  seen  such  people,  they  are  not  obliged  to  believe  that 
they  exist.  If  I  excelled  in  narrative,  and  were  a  lecturer,  allowed  to 
be  occasionally  grave,  I  could  find  infinite  variety  of  materials  to  dwell 
upon,  and  rather  amusing  too;  but  as  I  feel  perfect  conviction  that  I 
am  never  amusing  without  I  assume  the  manner  of  another,  I  know 
not  how  to  suggest  matter  for  comic  effects,  out  of  mere  observations. 
I  should  be  very  much  inclined  to  remove  many  prejudices  that  exist 
between  the  two  countries,  and  most  anxious  to  do  justice  to  the  upper 
orders  of  people.  They  are  well  informed,  polite,  hospitable,  unaffected, 
I  can  truly  say,  that  I  have  never  experienced  more  attentions  in  my 
own  country.  I  do  not  believe,  at  least,  I  cannot  discover,  that  they 
differ  at  all  from  the  polished  people  of  the  same  rank  in  England. 
They  do  not  certainly  approach  to  the  ease  and  finish  of  our  upper 
ranks.  I  should  feel  equally  disposed  to  scourge,  to  flagellate,  to  score 
to  the  backbone,  all  the  middling  and  lower  orders.  They  are  as  in- 
finitely beneath  the  notions  that  Europeans  entertain  of  them,  as  their 
superiors  are  above  them.  Not  merely  sullen  and  cold,  but  studiously 
rude.  This  1  have  no  hesitation  in  saying.  The  stage-driver  says, 
*'  Yes,  sir"  and  "  no,  sir"  to  the  ostler,  but  to  a  question  from  a 
person  who  has  a  clean  neckcloth,  he  instantly  draws  up,  and,  in  the 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  285 

most  repulsive  manner,  answers,  "  No,"  "  ay,"  or  "  very  well."  The 
upper  orders  are  literally  slaves  to  the  lower.  The  poorest  people  in 
the  country  will  submit  to  exist  in  the  most  miserable  manner,  with 
their  families,  rather  than  any  one  of  them  should  be  degraded  by 
servitude.  The  consequence  is,  that  all  the  menial  situations  are  filled 
by  negroes  (niggers),  and  Irish  and  Scotch.  This  constitutes  the  great 
difficulty  in  picking  up  anecdote,  character,  or  anything  that  would  be 
called  peculiarity,  in  Ireland  or  Scotland;  even  in  dialect,  the  same 
disappointment  follows  the  attempt.  All  that  is  attributed  by  foreigners 
to  the  English  appears  to  belong  to  the  Americans,  but  with  exag- 
gerations— reserve,  coldness,  monotony,  &c.  The  gravity  of  the  upper 
orders,  which  is  by  no  means  displeasing,  becomes  perfect  unkindness 
(to  make  use  of  no  stronger  expression)  inthe  middling  orders;  for  though 
I  have  used  the  term  lower,  I  hardly  know  who  they  are,  where  they  are, 
or  how  they  exist.  They  appear  to  me  to  be  too  proud  even  to  be  seen. 
Not  one  American  have  I  yet  seen  waiting  at  table,  or  in  any  situation 
where  he  might  run  the  risk  of  being  called  servant.  This  is  common- 
place to  you,  I  am  aware,  but  I  mean  to  assure  you  that  the  tourists 
have  not  exaggerated  it :  they  are  all  within  the  mark. . 

You  will  from  this  perceive  what  difficulty  I  have  to  discover  cha- 
racter or  peculiarities.  If  I  enter  into  conversation  with  a  coachman, 
he  is  Irish ;  if  a  fellow  brings  me  a  note,  he  is  Scotch.  If  I  call  a 
porter,  he  is  a  negro.  I  can't  come  at  the  American  without  I  go  to 
the  porter-houses,  and  that  I  cannot  condescend  to  do.  There  are  no 
phrases,  no  intonations,  and  no  instances  of  bad  pronunciation,  false 
grammar,  or  incorrect  English,  that  I  cannot  trace  to  be  of  English 
origin.  Yorkshire,  Somersetshire,  and  above  all,  London,  have  supplied 
them  most  copiously.  Here  arises  another  difficulty.  The  impression 
would  be,  that  there  is  no  novelty  in  this — this  has  been  done  before — • 
these  are  English  characters.  A  week  in  Ireland  would  supply  more 
drollery  than  twelve  months  here.  Then  again,  all  persons  are  dressed 
alike,  nobody  well-dressed,  no  one  shabby.  The  judge,  the  barrister, 
the  shopkeeper,  the  President,  the  member  of  Congress,  the  mechanic, 
the  servant,  without  the  slightest  variation.  Even  in  the  courts  of 
justice  there  is  no  distinction  of  ranks.  The  judge  in  the  shabby  blue 
coat  and  striped  waistcoat,  that  the  tipstaff  wears.  Now,  I  feel  per- 
fectly satisfied  that  my  audience  would  yawn  at  this  description  of  the 
people,  even  if  it  could  boast  of  the  recommendation  of  novelty.  The 
Yankee  is  a  term  given  by  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  other  parts  of  the 
United  States  to  those  of  the  east  exclusively.  The  larger  cities  boast 
of  superiority  in  every  respect,  and  speak  of  the  Rhode  Islander,  and 
the  Massachusetts-man,  exactly  as  the  English  speak  of  all  Americans, 
and  have  a  contempt  for  a  Yankee. 

I  have  just  come  from  Boston  in  the  latter  State,  and  certainly  I 
liave  discovered  more  of  character  there  than  in  the  cities  of  New  York, 
Baltimore,  or  Philadelphia,  where  the  language,  generally,  is  better 
spoken  than  in  London,  or  any  part  of  England.  I  quite  agree  with 
you  in  your  remarks,  that  a  journal  is  necessary  on  a  tour,  but  I  doubt 


28Q  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

its  nse  in  America.*  "The  court  of  justice"  is  dulness  itself.  The 
Quakers'  meeting  would  be  a  better  subject,  if  the  Quakers  talked  as 
much  as  the  counsellors;  and  this  again  would  be  Westminster  Hall 
on  an  uninteresting  day,  without  wigs.  The  "  travellers"  I  have  acted 
upon.  But  there  is  no  "  travellers'  room"  at  an  inn.  All  travellers  of 
every  description  are  shown  into  the  same  room,  and  silence  reigns 
amidst  the  smoke  of  cigars.  The  only  notions  I  have  had  (droll  to 
say)  is  a  coach  scene  "  a  la  diligence."  Some  of  the  summer  dresses 
would  be  new  to  the  English.  Negro  women  dressed  like  Quakers — 
very  common  here.  A  very  fat  negro,  with  whom  I  met,  driving  a 
stage-coach  (which  are  almost  as  peculiar  as  the  French),  and  urging 
his  horses  by  different  tunes  on  a  tiddle,  while  he  ingeniously  fastened 
the  reins  round  his  neck.  This  would  give  an  opportunity  for  the 
only  costume  which  differs  from  that  of  our  own  country,  the  summer 
dress.  With  respect  to  songs,  I  really  fear  that  I  shall  hardly  be  able 
to  suggest  subjects.  The  onl}'-  striking  subject  for  a  patter  songf  is 
the  inordinate  love  of  title ;  a  remarkable  instance  of  the  weakness  and 
inconsistency  of  these  simple  republicans.  Though  the  honour  of 
knighthood  bestowed  on  their  President,  even  if  he  were  a  Washington, 
would  rouse  the  country  into  a  civil  war,  they  are  more  ridiculously 
ostentatious  of  the  petty  titles  that  are  recognised  than  any  people 
under  the  sun.  There  is  not  any  regular  military  establishment ;  a 
militia  is  kept  up  by  occasional  drillings,  &c. ;  and,  in  case  of  war,  this 
is  their  only  effective  force.  The  officers,  therefore,  are  composed  of  all 
ranks  of  persons;  and  whether  they  have  actually  served  or  not, 
whether  retired  or  in  present  exercise,  they  tenaciously  exact  their 
titles.  On  every  road,  even  at  the  meanest  pothouse,  it  is  common  to 
call  out,  "  Major,  bring  me  a  glass  of  toddy  !"  "  Captain  Obis,  three 
segars,  and  change  for  a  dollar !"  "  Why  are  we  so  long  changing 
horses,  colonel?"  This  was  addressed  to  our  coachman — a  fact! 
"  Why,  Achilles  is  gone  to  get  one  of  the  horses  shod,  but  the  Major 
is  a  good  hand,  he'll  soon  clap  four  shoes  on." — "Othello,  run  to 
Captain  Smith's  for  a  pound  of  cheese." 

I  heard  at  New  York — "  Colonel  Hunter,  your  bread  is  by  no  means 
so  good  as  that  you  baked  at  the  beginning  of  the  year."  "  Sheriff, 
your  health."  "Judge,  a  glass  of  wine."  "  Counsellor,  allow  me  to 
send  you  some  beef."  They  are  chiefly  remarkable  for  accenting  the 
wrong  syllable,  in  (engiwe,  genume,J  enquiry.  Located  is  in  g  neral 
use  ;  approbated,  ultlmated,  &c.)  "  Admire,"  is  to  have  an  inclination 
to  do  anything,  as,  "  I  should  admire  to  skate  to-day."§  "  Ugly" 
means  ill-tempered.     "  It  is  a  pity  such  a  pretty  woman  should  be  so 

*  His  own  extraordinary  memory  rendered  a  journal  unnecessary ;  his  memo- 
randa were  to  be  found  only  on  the  "written  tablets  of  the  brain." 

t  A  patter-song  means  one  of  those  for  which  he  was  so  celebrated,  with 
speaking  between  every  verse, 

X  All  the  expressions  with  the  (  )  are  used  at  the  bar  and  in  the  pulpit. 

§  Admire  is  used  in  the  same  sense  in  our  county  of  Suffolk. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  287 

ugly"  If  they  speak  of  a  "plain  woman"  they  say  she  is  moful. 
"  Clever"  is  good-natured — as,  "  He's  a  clever  fellow,  but  a  damned 
fool."  "  Considerable,"  in  the  general  sense,  but  as  an  adverb — as, 
"  He  is  considerable  rich."  "  Guess"  is  always  used  in  cases  where  no 
doubt  exists : — "  1  guess  I  have  a  headache."  "  Servants"  are  called 
helps.  "  Slick"  is  nice.  "  A  sliclc  potato."  "  He  did  it  slickee" 
(cleverly) ;  and  "  slick  right  away."  "  My  wife  died  slick  right  away" 
— that  is,  she  went  off  pleasantly,  but  suddenly.  "  That  is  a  little  too 
damned  bad ;"  "  a  little  grain  of  water."  "  Progress,"  used  as  a  verb 
— as,  "  I  guess  our  western  States  j^rogress  very  fast ;"  i.e.,  improve. 
"  Ad/wiVable  is  generally  said.  The  particle  to  is  very  generally  used 
(not  by  learned  persons)  after  a  verb — as,  "  I  guess  it's  a  fine  day. 
Will  you  take  a  walk  ?"  "  I  should  admire  to"  or,  "  I  have  no 
occasion  to."  "  When  you  were  to  Boston  ?"  "  Have  you  been  out  in 
the  rain  ?" — "  Yes,  but  I  had  not  ought  to." 

The  follovving  dialogue  was  furnished  me  by  an  ear-witness,  who 
knew  my  desire  to  collect : — "  Anything  new  to-day,  Mr.  B.  ?" — "  I 
guess  I  have  not  heard  anything." — How's  your  lady  ?" — "  Nicely. 
She  progresses  fast  under  Dr.  A.  She  comes  on  slick,  and  grows 
quite  fleshy." — "  How's  Miss  Sabrina  ?" — "  She's  quite  good  (well). 
She's  afoine  girl." — "  I  think  she  is,  though  she's  rather  awful." — "  I 
never  saw  her  ugly  in  my  lite,  and  if  she  had  but  a  pretty  face,  she'd 
be  complete  !  Real !" — **  Have  you  taken  her  to  the  theayter  yet  ?" — 
"  I  hadn't  ought  to." — "  Why  ?" — "  I  guess  I  can't  afford  it." — "  Is  not 
Mathews  a  favoW^e  of  yours?" — "Not  by  no  manner  of  means.  I 
wish  he'd  take  himself  off." — "I  reckon  he'll  take  us  off  when  he's  at 
home  in  his  own  country  again." — "  He  won't  dare  to.  We  would  not 
suffer  that  there." — "  He's  a  smart  fellow"  (applied  to  any  talent) ; 
"  but  I  like  a  steady  actor,  as  gives  us  time  to  admire  him,  and  find  out 
his  beauties." 

They  use  the  word  raised  for  born,  or  erecting  a  building : — 
"  Where  were  you  raised  ?" — "  In  Virginia."  "  I  guess  you  have 
considerable  hogs  and  niggers  P" — "  Yes,  we  have  plenty  of  them  black 
cattle."  "  Will  you  come  and  take  a  little  grain  of  brandy,  or  whisky  ?" — 
"  I  should  admire  to,  for  I'm  considerable  thirsty ;  but  I  must  first  go 
and  speak  to  the  gentleman  as  looks  after  my  nags."  "  Where  does 
your  horse  keep?" — "At  Colonel  Crupper's  livery-stables."  "I  guess 
the  colonel  has  pretty  damned  bad  help  ?" — "  The  ostler  as  tends  the 
stable  is  a  spry  likely  lad  ?"  "  Yes;  he's  spry  and  well-looking,  but 
pretty  ugly." — "  I  don't  mind  his  ugliness.  If  he  showed  me  any  of 
it,  I'd  make  him  clear  out  pretty  damned  quick."  "  You'll  find  me  at 
Sampson's  grog-shop,  I  guess.  You  won't  be  long  ?" — "  I'm  coming 
right  back.     Tell  Sampson  to  put  a  little  grain  of  bitters  in  my  brandy." 

The  strongest  character  is  the  landlord  of  an  inn.  He  is  the 
most  independent  person  in  America.  You  must  be  impressed  with 
the  idea  that  he  confers  a  i'avour  upon  you,  or  it  is  in  vain  to  expect 
any  accommodation.  He  can't  be  caricatured  ;  I  won't  spare  him  an 
inch.    He  is,  too,  the  most  insolent  rascal  I* ever  encountered;  he  is 


288  THE  LIFE  AND  COKRESPONDENCE  OF 

the  double-distilled  of  those  qualities  I  described  as  appertaining-  to  the 
middling  orders.  Here  I  can  personate  to  advantage.  It  will  be  my 
main-stay,  my  sheet-anchor.  I  have  already  three  or  four  distinct 
specimens  of  the  same  species.  The  effect  will  depend  more  on  manner 
than  matter.  Par  exemple.  If  you  arrive  at  the  inn,  the  regular 
system  of  inattention  and  freezing  indifference  is  instantly  apparent. 
No  one  appears.  You  enter  the  house,  and  search  about  for  a  landlord 
or  waiter.  Probably  you  pass  the  former,  but  fearing  he  may  be  the 
Judge  or  the  Governor  of  the  State,  you  are  afraid  to  address  him. 
You  find  a  nigger — no  mistaking  him.  "  Where's  your  master  ?"  (A 
black  look).     "  Dat  Missa  Rivers." 

The  following  little  dialogue  took  place  with  me.  I  respectfully 
solicited  a  room  for  myself  and  friend  (an  Englishman,  who,  like  myself, 
was  aware  of  the  manners  and  customs,  and  hoped  to  be  annoyed,  for 
the  sake  of  others  "  At  Home.")  "  Can  we  have  a  private  room  ?"  "  I 
guess  you  can,  if  there  isnt  nobody  in  it." — Mathews.  "  Can  we  have 
some  dinner?"  Landlord.  "Dinner!  why,  we've  dined  these  two 
hours !  It's  four  o'clock !"  (All  ranks  dine  at  a  table- d'hote). 
Mathews.  "Still,  we  have  had  no  dinner;  perhaps,  sir,  you  would 
oblige  us  ?"  Landlord.  "  I  suspect,  rather,  we've  something  left  as  we 
had  for  our  dinner.  But  you  should  have  come  sooner  if  you  wanted 
to  dine ;  this  is  no  time  for  dinner,  after  everybody's  done.  It  puts  one's 
helps  out  of  the  way." — Mathews.  "  Well,  sir,  the  help  will  be  paid 
for  his  trouble  ;  therefore  try  your  best  for  us."  A  Hottentot  Adonis 
appeared,  with  his  sleeves  tucked  up  to  his  shoulders  (thermometer  90°), 
an  effluvia  arising  from  his  ebony  skin,  that  he  ingeniously  overpowered 
by  one  of  greater  power  from  a  leg  of  lamb. — Mathews.  "  Any  port 
wine  ?"  "  Yes,  massa,  berry  good  a  wine." — Mathews.  "  Bring  a 
bottle."  A  bottle  of  mulled  Day  and  Martin  was  brought. — "  Any 
ice?"  "Not  to-day,  massa;  none  in  Elizabeth  Town;  a  can't  get  a 
any  Sudday"  (Sunday).  At  this  moment  enters  mine  host,  who  takes 
a  chair,  and  sits  down  with  his  hat  on  and  a  segar  in  his  mouth,  and 
inquires  who  we  are — where  we  are  going,  &c.  "  Colonel  Gympentike 
and  Major  Foozle,  going  to  Bristol." — Mathews.  "  Your  wine  is  very 
hot."  Landlord.  "  Why,  I  don't  know  for  that;  it  keeps  in  the  bar." 
— Mathews.  "  Have  you  no  cellar  ?"  Landlord.  "  I  suppose  I  have, 
but  not  for  that.  It's  always  in  the  bar  right  an  end." — Mathews. 
"  It's  rather  thick ;  have  you  had  it  long  ?"  Landlord.  "  Three 
weeks  and  a  bit.  I  fetched  it  in  my  chay  myself  from  Philadelphee,  a 
little  while  back." 

At  four  in  the  morning  a  messenger  arrived  in  the  mail,  who  inquired 
for  me,  having  a  letter  for  me  from  a  friend,  advising  me  to  fly,  as  the 
fever,  he  knew,  was  in  Elizabeth  Town.  Mine  host  guessed  1  was  the 
man,  and  entered  my  room  with  a  candle.  Landlord.  "  A  letter  for 
you,  I  reckon." — 3iathews.  "Did  the  messenger  tell  you  to  give  it 
me  in  the  middle  of  the  night  ?— Landlord.  "I  guess  he  did  not.  It 
was  my  own  contrivance." — Mathews.  "  It  is  an  odd  hour  to  wake  a 
man." — Landlord.  I  guess  I  did  the  right  thing,  and  that  there  is 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  289 

always  propriety.  Whatever  you  perform,  fulfil  that  right  away."  I 
was  so  tickled  that  I  said:  "You're  a  pleasant  man  ;  how's  your  wife?" 
Landlord.  "Why,  she's  tolerable  well,  but  jore^^^/jooor"  (very  thin). 
— Mathews.  "  Well,  I  shall  not  get  up  until  eight  or  nine,  therefore 
adieu  !  thou  lovely  youth.  I  must  still  think  it  was  very  extraordinary 
to  disturb  me."  Landlord.  "  Ah,  I  don't  mind  remarks  when  I  fulfils 
propriety.  I'm  an  honest  man,  and  I  presumes  I  have  done  the  right 
thing,  and  then  remarks  is  equal.  I  am  a  docile  man  in  church  and 
state." — Exit  with  candle. 

Another  instance,  lately  in  my  journey  from  Boston  to  New  York ; 
nearly  the  same  dialogue,  but  a  different-looking  being,  a  dear  little 
punchy  fellow,  with  a  hat  as  large  as  a  tea-board,  and  such  a  tail !  He 
was  just  going  to  bed,  and  when  we  asked  for  supper,  he  said, 
"  Why,  we  have  supped  these  three  hours ;  what  made  you  come  to- 
night ?"  But  this  interview  requires  personation,  and  is  one  of  the 
few  instances  of  originality. 

I  shall  be  rich  in  black  fun.  I  have  studied  their  broken  English 
carefully.  It  is  pronounced  the  real  thing,  even  by  the  Yankees.  Itf 
is  a  pity  that  I  dare  not  touch  upon  a  preacher.  I  know  its  danger, 
but  perhaps  the  absurdity  might  give  a  colour  io  it — a  black  Methodist ! 
I  have  a  specimen  from  life,  which  is  relished  highly  in  private.  A 
leetle  bit  you  shall  have.  By  the  by,  they  call  the  nigger  meetings 
"  Black  Brimstone  Churches."  "  My  wordy  bredren,  it  a  no  use  to 
come  to  de  meetum-house  to  ear  de  most  hellygunt  orashions  if  a  no 
put  a  de  cent  into  de  plate ;  de  spiritable  man  cannot  get  a  on  widout  de 
temporalities ;  twelve  'postles  must  hab  de  candle  to  burn.  You  dress  a 
self  up  in  de  fine  blue  a  cot,  and  a  bandalore  breechum,  and  tink  a  look 
like  a  gemman,  but  no  more  like  a  gemman  dan  put  a  finger  in  de  fire, 
and  take  him  out  again,  widout  you  put  a  de  money  in  a  de  plate.  He 
lend  a  to  de  poor,  lend  to  de  Law  (Lord),  if  you  like  a  de  secoority 
drop  a  de  cents  in  to  de  box.  My  sister  in  a  de  gallery  too  dress  em 
up  wid  de  poke  a  de  bonnet,  and  de  furbellow-tippet,  and  look  in  de 
glass  and  say,  *  Pretty  Miss  Phyllis,  how  bell  I  look !'  but  no  pretty  in 
de  eye  of  the  Law  (Lord)  widout  a  drop  a  cent  in  de  plate.  My  friend 
and  bredren,  in  my  endeavour  to  save  you,  I  come  across  de  bay  in  de 
stim  a  boat.  I  never  was  more  shock  dan  when  I  see  de  race  a  horse  a 
rubbin  down.  No  fear  o'  de  Law  afore  dere  eye  on  de  Sabbat  a  day, 
ben  I  was  tinking  of  de  great  enjawment  my  friend  at  a  Baltimore  was  to 
have  dis  night,  dey  rub  a  down  de  horse  for  de  use  of  de  debbil.  Twix 
you  and  I,  no  see  what  de  white  folk  make  so  much  fun  of  us,  for  when 
dey  act  so  foolish  demselve,  dey  tink  dey  know  ebery  ting,  and  dat  we 
poor  brack  people  know  noting  at  all  amose  (almost).  Den  shew  dem 
how  much  more  dollars  you  can  put  in  de  plate  dan  de  white  meetum- 
houses.  But,  am  sorry  to  say,  some  of  you  put  three  cent  in  a  plate, . 
and  take  a  out  a  quarter  a  dollar.  What  de  say  ven  you  go  to  hebben  ? 
Dey  ask  you  what  you  do  wid  de  twenty-two  cent  you  take  out  of  de 
plate  when  you  put  in  de  tree  cent  ?  what  you  go  do  den  ?" 

I  have  several  specimens  of  these  black  gentry  that  I  can  bring  into 


290  THE  LIFE.  AND  COERESPONDENCE  OF 

playi  and  particularly  scraps  of  songs,  and  malaprops,  such  as  Maho- 
metan below  Caesar  (Thermometer  below  zero),  &c. 

SONG. 

Oh !  love  is  like  de  pepper-corn, 

It  makes  me  act  so  cute ; 
It  make  de  bosoms  feel  so  warm, 

And  eye  shine  like  new  boot ! 
I  meet  Miss  Phillis  tudder  day 

In  berry  pensive  mood — 
She  almost  cry  her  eyes  away 

For  Pomp's  ingratitude. 

Oh,  lubby  brushing  maid,  said  I, 

What  makee  look  so  sad  ? 
Ah,  Scip  !  de  brooteous  virgin  cry, 

I  feel  most  debblish  bad ! 
For  Pomp  he  stole  my  heart  away, 

Me  taught  him  berry  good ; 
But  he  no  lub  me  now  he  say ! 

Chah !  what  ingratitude ! 

I  can  no  more  j  but  you  shall  hear  again  shortly  from. 

Yours  most  truly,  C.  Mathews. 


To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Philadelphia,  Feb.  25th,  1823. 

I  have  an  opportunity  of  sending  rather  a  larger  packet  than  I  should 
despatch  by  post,  by  a  gentleman  of  Philadelphia,  whom  I  hereby 
introduce  to  your  notice  as  well  worthy  of  your  civilities.  I  have 
received  attentions  from  him  in  the  way  of  little  acts  of  kindness,  for 
which  I  am  very  grateful. 

He  set  me  on  my  journey  to  New  York,  as  they  say  in  Old  York, 
and  rode  twenty  miles  with  me  to  keep  up  my  spirits  when  I  first  went 
there.  It  will,  doubtless,  be  a  satisfaction  to  you  to  hear  an  account 
from  any  eye-witness  of  my  brilliant  reception  here  last  night,  in  the 
midst  of  a  snow-storm  that  would  have  driven  English  people  away 
from  the  theatre,  like  a  flock  of  wild  geese. 

Price  has  come  on  with  me,  like  a  good  fellow,  to  take  care  of  me ; 
and  I  am  at  a  peculiar  sort  of  a  house,  for  America,  where  I  am  really 
comfortable — a  rarer  word  here  than  in  France. 

Mr.  Wain  will  describe  to  you  the  nature  of  the  establishment.  It 
is  nearer  the  English  mark  than  any  house  in  the  country ;  and  there 
is  plenty  of  water,  thank  Heaven!  The  regular  allowance  of  an 
American  inn  is  about  a  pint  daily,  with  one  towel  nine  inches  square, 
and  one  remove  only  from  India  paper. 

I  have  written  a  long  letter,  as  you  will  see,  to  Smith.    Notwith- 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  291 

standing  the  nature  of  the  letter  I  have  written  to  him,  I  do  not  despair 
of  a  good  entertainment  being  formed  from  my  trip. 

The  auction  at  Boston  will  show  the  extraordinary  prices  given  for 
boxes.  It  was  made  a  wonder  of  in  Kean.  Observe  that  the  biddings 
were  for  choice  of  boxes.  If  a  man  wished  to  get  No.  4  as  the  best 
box  for  hearing,  he  bids  12  dollars,  and  the  box  holds  9 — a  dollar  for 
each  seat,  so  that  his  box  costs  21  dollars. 

C.  Mathews. 


To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

New  York,  May  15th,  1823. 

It  is  my  intention  to  embark  hence  on  Sunday  the  24th,  in  the 
packet-ship  Meteor,  Captain  Cobb,  and  hope  to  be  at  home,  please  God ! 
before  my  birthday,  the  28th  of.  June.  Since  I  wrote  to  you  last  I 
have  received  your  journal  up  to  the  5th  of  April,  exposing  to  me  for 
the  first  time  the  wretched  state  of  health  to  which  you  have  been 
doomed  in  my  absence.  Indeed,  indeed,  I  sympathise  most  sincerely 
with  you,  and  grieve  most  truly  that  I  have  been,  though  the  innocent, 
yet  the  real  cause  of  your  sufferings  by  my  unfortunate  expedition. 
Oh !  my  prophetic  soul !  I  may  say ;  for  I  always  declared  that  the 
most  severe  pang  at  the  calamity  here  was  the  perfect  conviction  of  the 
shock  it  would  be  to  your  nerves.  I  trust  that  your  well-meant  and 
kind  deception  is  not  carried  on  now ;  and  that  I  may  flatter  myself 
with  the  hope  that  I  shall  find  you,  as  you  say,  quite  restored  to  health. 
God  grant  it  may  be  so ! 

I  am  quite  resolved  now  on  my  course.  No  advantage  under  heaven 
should  induce  me  to  inflict  so  cruel  a  penalty  upon  you  as  a  journey  to 
Liverpool.  You  must  be  convinced  of  my  entire  ignorance  of  your 
state  of  health,  when  I  even  hinted  at  it.  No ;  the  moment  I  arrive 
at  Liverpool  I  will  write  to  you  and  inform  you  of  the  time  of  my 
probable  arrival  at  home.  I  have  written  to  Lewis  again,  by  the 
Columbia,  and  informed  him  of  my  new  determination.  So  now,  my 
dearest  wife,  I  have  nothing  to  add,  but  that  as  my  prayers  have  been 
unceasing  for  your  health  and  happiness,  they  will  be  redoubled  for  our 
happy,  happy  meeting,  and  the  entire  restoration  of  your  health.  I 
am  astonished  how  you  could  get  through  such  laborious  letters,  and 
the  ingenuity  of  your  innocent  deceit  throughout.  What  a  deceitful 
pair  we  have  been !  At  the  very  time  you  were  laying  your  plans,  I 
was  plotting  here ;  but  I  have  never  been  deceived  in  my  feelings  and 
my  forebodings.  I  possess  the  gift  of  second  sight,  if  anybody  ever 
did.  If  I  wanted  anything  to  endear  Charles  to  me  more  strongly 
than  ever,  it  is  his  conduct  towards  you.     God  will  bless  him  for  it. 

C.  Mathews. 


u2 


292  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

Mr.  Matiiews  at  New  York  in  the  character  of  Othello — Success  of  the  attempt 
— Anticipation  by  the  Americans  that  Mr.  Mathews  would,  on  his  return  to 
England,  ridicule  their  peculiarities — Public  dinner  given  to  him — Letter 
from  Mr.  Theodore  Hook  to  Mr.  Mathews — Mr.  Mathews's  engagement  to 
perform  in  the  regular  drama :  his  journey  to  Dublin — Letter  to  Mrs. 
Mathews :  a  stage-coach  nuisance — Mr.  Mathews's  dislike  of  idle  visitors — 
Letters  to  Mi-s.  Mathews  :  arrival  at  Seapoint;  success  at  Dublin. 

About  the  middle  of  May,  Mr.  Mathews  was  induced  to  appear 
at  New  York  in  the  character  of  Othello,  which  he  had  studied 
for  the  occasion.  What  led  him  to  perform  such  a  part  I  totally 
forget,  although  I  have  some  indistinct  recollection  that  it  was 
in  consequence  of  a  wager  made  by  Mr.  Price.  Strange  to  say, 
the  attempt  was  received  with  great  applause,  and  being  very 
attractive,  was  several  times  repeated.  I  have  found  the  first 
and  second  bill  of  this  performance.  On  both  those  nights  the 
tragedy  was  followed  by  the  farce  of  "  The  Prize,"  in  which  he 
played  Lenitive. 

The  following  remarks,  which  appeared  in  America,  on  the 
performance,  ought  to  find  a  place  here  : — 

The  performance  of  last  evening  we  consider  one  of  the  most  extra- 
ordinary we  ever  witnessed.  It  will  hardly  be  credited  that  Mr. 
Mathews  most  completely  succeeded  in  the  arduous  character  of 
Othello  I  We  could  not  conceive  that  an  actor,  whose  forte  has  been 
considered  till  now  all  comic,  could  so  far  divest  himself  of  his  humorous 
peculiarities,  as  to  convey  to  his  audience  a  very  chaste,  correct,  pleasing, 
and  even  aifecting  picture  of  the  unhappy  Moor.  In  Mr.  Mathews' 
delivery  of  the  text  there  was  everything  to  applaud  ;  in  his  action, 
nothing  to  condemn.  To  the  business  of  the  scene  he  was  throughout 
most  attentive,  and  in  the  third,  fourth,  and  last  acts,  he  afforded  the 
most  complete  triumph  of  skill  we  have  ever  witnessed.  The  cele- 
brated address  to  the  duke  and  senators  was  judiciously  given,  with  an 
air  of  modest  firmness  extremely  pleasing;  and  to  all  the  splendid 
j)assages  which  stud  this  beautiful  tragedy,  Mr.  Mathews  gave  additional 
effect,  by  the  simple  eloquence  of  his  delivery,  and  the  correctness  of 
his  readings. 


CHARLES  MATHEWa  293 

The  following  sensible  remarks,  which  seem  to  anticipate  that 
Mr.  Mathews  was  likely  to  take  away  with  him,  for  home-con- 
sumption, some  characteristics  of  the  Americans,  appeared  in 
America,  just  on  the  eve  of  his  departure. 

On  Monday  evening  this  extraordinary  actor  takes  leave  of  the 
American  audience,  to  return  to  the  comforts  of  his  home  and  family, 
and  to  those  friends  and  associates  which  many  years  of  professional 
services  and  an  unquestionable  character  and  deportment  have  acquired 
for  him.  He  returns  with  profit,  if  not  with  improvement ;  and  though 
it  may  be  expected  that  some  of  our  national  peculiarities  will  form  the 
subject  of  future  entertainments,  we  are  persuaded  that  he  has  discerned 
some  traits  worthy  his  esteem  and  respect.  We  should  not  complain  if 
these  peculiarities  are  presented  in  a  rational  and  amusing  way  to  an 
English  audience ;  for  Mathews  has  been  entertaining  us  with  many 
amusing  hits  and  laughable  absurdities  at  the  expense  of  his  own 
countrymen.  We  have,  therefore,  no  right  to  expect  an  exemption 
from  these  professional  sallies  and  satires. 

As  a  tribute  of  respect,  a  public  farewell  dinner  was  given  to 
him.     The  following  notice  of  it  appeared : — 

To-day,  a  party  of  Mr.  Mathews's  friends  give  him  a  dinner  at 
Sykes's  Coffee-house.  We  have  no  doubt  it  will  be  a  splendid  one,  as 
Mr.  Sykes  has  been  several  days  preparing  for  it.  Tickets  for  this 
dinner  only  10  dollars  each  ! — a  mere  trifle ! 

By  the  active  friendship  of  Mr.  Freeling,  I  received  the  earliest 
information  of  my  husband's  approach  to  JEngland,  and  I  set  off, 
accompanied  by  Charles,  to  Liverpool,  where  we  arrived  some 
days  earlier  than  Mr.  Mathews,  who  landed  about  the  23rd  of 
June,  in  high  health  and  spirits. 

To  G.  Mathews,  Esq. 

Putney,  Sunday  evening. 

Deae  Mat., — Ever  since  I  saw  a  note  of  yours  to  Powell,  in  vvhich 
you  call  me  Theodorus,  I  have  been  longing  to  get  over  to  you ;  but, 
well  awai-e  of  the  perpetual  engagements  of  men  in  your  extremely 
idle  profession,  I  have  thought  of  rehearsals  and  "  recollections ;"  and 
being  some  nine  or  ten  miles  from  you,  it  would  be  rash  to  risk  the 
journey  on  so  slender  a  chance  of  catching  you  at  home. 

I  take  this  opportunity — it  may  seem  somewhat  late — of  congratu- 
lating you  upon  your  return  to  England,  after  a  series,  if  one  may 
judge  by  the  newspapers,  of  worries  and  dangers.  I  confess  I  long  to 
talk  over  your  marine  adventures ;  and,  as  I  suppose  there  would  be  no 
chance  of  getting  you  here,  if  you  will  tell  me  any  morning  when  you 
will  be  cJiez  vous,  except  Tuesday  or  Thursday,  I  will  drive  over  and 
breakfast  with  you — if  you  will  let  me. 

I  cannot  look  back  to  old  times — my  first  days  in  the  world,  my  dear 


294  THE  LIFE  AND  COERESPONDENCE  OF 

Mat,  without  a  mixture  of  pleasure  and  sorrow;  and  now,  that  seven- 
teen years  have  rolled  over  our  heads  (and  rubbed  almost  all  the  hair 
off  mine)  I  own  I  am  anxious  once  more  to  shake  you  by  the  hand. 

I  enclose  Mrs.  Mathews  two  sketches  of  myself  at  different  periods, 
in  order  that,  seeing  what  I  was,  she  may  not  start  with  horror  at 
seeing  what  I  am.  You  will,  I  dare  say,  recognise  the  genteel  one, 
which  is  done  after  your  imitation  of  me.  Pray,  make  my  best  re- 
membrances to  her ;  and,  if  Twig  (Lord,  when  I  remember  him  as  I 
do !)  is  with  you,  to  him  also. 

You  hate  paying  postage  for  nonsense — revenge  yourself  by  writing 
me  an  answer;  and  so,  my  dear  Mat,  good  night,  and  God  bless  you. 

Yours  always,        Theodoee  Hook. 

On  Mr.  Mathews's  return  to  London,  he  entered  upon  an 
engagement  at  the  English  Opera-house  to  perform  in  the  drama. 
He  met  with  a  most  enthusiastic  welcome,  and  attracted  crowded 
houses.  During  this  period  he  performed  the  characters  of 
Monsieur  Tonson,  Caleb  Quofem,  and  some  other  old  favourites 
with  the  town,  prefacing  his  dramatic  performance  with  one  of 
his  mono-dramatic  pieces,  "The  Polly  Packet." 

At  the  close  of  the  English  Opera-house,  the  following  allusion 
to  Mr.  Mathews's  late  performance  was  made  in  the  farewell 
speech  of  the  season,  delivered  by  Mr.  Bartley  : — 

The  first  appearance  of  Mr.  Mathews  in  the  drama  for  six  years  has 
been  greeted  with  a  warmth  of  feeling  bordering  on  enthusiasm ;  and 
the  proprietor  therefore  congratulates  himself  on  having  been  able  to 
afford  this  welcome  treat  to  the  town,  prior  to  an  exhibition  of  the  rich 
fund  of  character  and  anecdote  which  the  quick  perception,  acute 
observation,  and  brilHant  humour  of  that  gentleman,  has  furnished  for 
the  budget  of  his  next  campaign,  during  his  late  trip  to  America. 

Having  concluded  this  engagement,  Mr.  Mathews  proceeded 
to  fulfil  one  in  Dublin,  for  a  month ;  prior  to  his  return  to  town, 
in  order  to  prepare  for  his  re-appearance  "  At  Home,"  in  a  new 
entertainment  to  be  called  his  "  Trip  to  America." 

My  husband  could  not  patiently  sit  out  a  morning  visit.  He 
never  took  up  anybody's  time  in  this  way,  or  what  is  termed 
called  upon  his  most  intimate  friend.  On  such  occasions  in  his 
own  house,  if  he  was  caught,  as  he  called  it,  by  mere  idlers, 
he  would  sit  silent  during  their  stay,  leaving  them  upon  my 
hands,  unless  directly  appealed  to,  for  he  had  no  small-talk, 
neither  could  he  tolerate  commonplace,  nor  had  he  an 
ear  for  useless  unprofitable  remarks,  and  a  truism  almost 
offended  him.  Yet  he  loved  trifling  upon  occasions,  and  in- 
dulged in  it  most  amusingly.     Newsmongers  did  not  recom- 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  295 

mend  themselves  to  him ;  scandal  he  disdained  and  would  not 
listen  to,  for  he  literally  closed  his  hearing  on  the  very  first  hint 
of  it,  by  turning  his  face  away,  and,  unperceived  by  the  vendor, 
placing  his  fingers  against  the  portals  of  his  ears.  This  he  did 
during  vehement  and  causeless  laughter.  An  angry  voice  or  a 
cough  was  acutely  felt  by  that  delicate,  and,  in  his  case,  painfully 
fastidious  organ. 

Yet  bored  as  he  felt,  and  sullen  as  he  appeared  with  such 
visitors  during  their  stay,  the  moment  he  saw  them  departing, 
his  good-nature  and  innate  sense  of  propriety  prevailed  over 
personal  inconvenience,  and  he  would  suddenly  relent,  and  in- 
variably follow  them  into  the  hall,  and  begin  a  sort  of  conversa- 
tion, detaining  them  in  the  most  agreeable  manner,  even  against 
his  own  wish,  from  the  dread  of  having  hurt  their  feelings  by  his 
neglect  during  their  visit. 

Wiien  we  removed  to  London,  the  space  between  the  entrance 
to  the  interior  of  the  house  being  so  much  shorter  than  from  the 
gate  to  the  porch  of  the  cottage,  people  were  apt  to  surprise  him 
sometimes  before  he  could  say  nay.  This  disconcerted  him 
during  the  whole  morning.  After  some  time,  I  caused  a  middle 
door  to  be  placed  in  the  hall,  intercepting  his  library,  and  con- 
trived to  have  an  eyelet-hole  made  in  one  corner  of  it,  with  a 
piece  of  plate-glass  artfully  inserted,  so  that  when  a  bore  knocked 
at  a  time  positively  unwelcome  or  inconvenient  to  listen  to  his 
gentle  dulness,  my  husband  would  peep  through  the  glass,  and 
by  silence  exclude  him ;  the  signal  for  the  servant  admitting  any 
person  was  the  tinkle  of  a  little  silver  bell  by  Mr.  Mathews.  By 
this  little  stratagem  I  saved  him  many  an  uncomfortable  hour, 
though  then  I  was  not  aware  how  vitally  important  it  was  for 
him  at  this  period  to  be  guarded  from  annoyance. 

To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Dublin,  Sept.  29tli,  1823. 
I  arrived  at  Dunleary  early  this  morning,  making  the  passage  in 
twelve  hours  and  a  half,  within  half  an  hour  of  the  quickest  ever 
performed.  The  weather  was  beautiful  and  calm,  and  the  voyage 
delightful.  I  am  settled  at  Seapoint,  with  a  tilbury  and  gig,  "  and 
all  that  sort  of  thing,"  ready  to  convey  me  to  Dublin — "  and  every- 
thing in  the  world."  I  could  not  get  the  whole  of  my  luggage  over  in 
one  vessel,  and  should  not  have  got  even  a  part  in  the  St.  George,  had 
I  not  entreated  with  uplifted  hands  and  tears  in  my  eyes.  I  am 
obliged,  therefore,  to  postpone  my  appearance  until  Thursday.  The 
weather  is  divine,  and  you  know  how  important  that  is  to  me.  The 
view  from  Seapoint  is  enchanting.  We  had  only  two  hundred  hay- 
makers on  board,  who  kicked  up  such  a  bobbery  that  it  was  quite  a 


296  THE  LIFE  AND  COEEESPONDENCE  OF 

burlesque  to  attempt  sleeping,  as  all  those  confessed  who  tried.  I  sat 
up  with  three  or  four  choice  spirits,  and  we  laughed  at  their  simplicity ; 
but  I  am  no  sufferer,  thank  God !  being  in  such  rude  health,  that 
"  How  fat  you  are !"  has  been  my  reception  hitherto. 

C.  Mathews. 


To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Seapoint,  Oct.  8rd,  1823. 
On  Tuesday  the  sports  began — my  old  Dublin  tortures.     Every  house 
I  look  at  associates — postman — no  letter — delay,  &c. ;  so  often  have  I 
been  in  suspense  here.     Pray  write  often.     One  single  line  yesterday, 
just  before  I  went  on  the  stage,  would  have  set  me  up  for  the  night. 

I  opened  last  night,  and  with  great  success.  My  reception  equal  to 
the  English  Opera  first  night.  The  Whist  Song,  a  great  hit ;  "  Croos- 
keen  Lawn,"  encored,  and  every  Irish  joke  received  with  roars.  This 
shows  great  good-nature  and  liberality,  certainly.  I  trembled  for  the 
Whist  Song,*  and  it  was  one  of  the  most  effective  things.  Everything 
went  off  well. 

C.  Mathews. 

*  The  -whole  of  which  he  gave  in  a  variety  of  brogues. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  297 


CHAPTER  XXIX] 

Mr.  Mathews's  reluctance  to  give  offence  in  his  representation  of  Anierican 
character — Letter  on  this  subject  from  Mr.  James  Smith — Letters  to  Mrs. 
Mathews ;  Irish  anecdotes :  danger  of  suffocation  :  arrival  in  Wales — Mr. 
Mathews's  new  entertainment,  the  '*Trip  to  America" — Account  of  tbe 
performance. 

If  no  other  evidence  of  Mr.  Mathews's  consideration  respecting 
his  forthcoming  representation  of  American  character  had  been 
manifest,  the  following  letter,  in  reply  to  his  reluctance  to  give 
offence,  and  his  anxiety  to  bestow  praise,  would  be  sufficient  to 
convince  the  Americans  how  tenderly  scrupulous  my  husband 
felt  of  any  mention  that  might  be  distasteful  to  the  country 
which  had  so  recently  treated  him  with  kindness  and  attention. 
Mr.  Smith's  letter  was  dictated  by  a  business-like  view  of  the 
subject,  unallied  to  the  remotest  prejudice  on  his  own  part,  or  a 
desire  to  encourage  it  in  others.  As  the  author  of  the  Enter- 
ment,  he  was  naturally  anxious  to  seize  upon  those  incidents  and 
characteristics  best  suited  to  interest  and  entertain,  and  he 
thought  it  fair  to  proceed  as  he  had  previously  done,  when  his 
own  country  and  countrymen  were  the  subjects. 

To  C.  Mathews,  £Isq. 

Oct.  4th,  1823. 

Deae  Mathews, — I  think  "  General  Jackson"  will  be  a  hit.  Your 
Anglo-Gallic  will  come  well  into  play,  and  "  Malbrook"  is  a  taking  air. 
In  the  introduction,  where  you  end  by  saying,  *'  A  hundred  verses,  of 
which  I  unfortunately  only  retain  ten,"  say,  "  unfortunately  (or  perhaps 
I  should  say  fortunately/  )*  This  self-humility  will  cause  you  to  be 
exalted.  I  cannot  agree  with  you  as  to  the  necessity  of  complimenting 
the  Americans,  "  The  theatre,"  says  Puff,  in  the  Critic,  "  might  be 
made  an  admirable  school  of  morality ;  at  present,  however,  I  am  sorry 
to  say,  people  go  there  chiefly  for  their  diversion."     In  like  manner, 

*  "GeneralJackson."  In  allusion  to  a  ludicrous  and  almost  interminable 
song,  sung  by  a  Frenchman  in  America  in  praise  of  General  Jackson,  which 
Mr.  Mathews  had  forwarded  to  Mr.  Smith  to  amuse  him,  and  of  which  he 
introduced  a  portion  in  the  "Trip  to  America." 


298  THE  LIFE  AND   COERESPONDENCE  OF 

the  town  comes  to  "Mathews  at  Home"  for  a  laugh — at  him,  if  he 
fail,  and  with  him  if  he  succeed.  I  have  no  objection,  however,  to  a 
complimentary  final  speech ;  something  like  this  : — "  May  nothing 
separate  England  and  America  but  the  billows  of  the  Atlantic."  That 
will  be  going  off  with  a  bounce.  Your  having  been  hospitably  received 
in  America  is  nothing  to  me,  and  worse  than  nothing  to  the  audience. 
You  may  have  a  private  reason  of  your  own,  why  two  and  two  should 
make  six,  but  they  will  only  make  four,  notwithstanding  {Johnson  1), 

And  now,  my  good  fellow,  I  will  quote  to  you  a  case  in  point.  Last 
Saturday  I  dined  at  the  Beefsteak  Club.  Charles  Morris  has  a  song 
quizzing  the  Yankees,  to  the  tune  of  "  Yankee  Doodle."  He  was  asked 
to  sing  it.  To  this  he  objected  thus  : — "  Oh  no,  my  dear  boys,  any- 
thing else.  It  won't  be  safe." — "Why  not  safe  ?"  "  Why,  although 
at  my  age  it  is  not  very  likely  that  I  shall  ever  revisit  America,  yet,  if 
I  should,  were  my  singing  that  song  to  get  wind,  the  President  might 
make  America  decidedly  uncomfortable  to  me."  We  all  took  our  oaths 
not  to  betray  him.  Whereupon,  pointing  up  to  a  motto  from  Horace, 
suspended  over  the  fire-place,  and  ejaculating  "  Fides  inter  amicos" 
with  a  mysterious  air,  he  started  off'  with  his  song.  On  the  following 
day  I  met  Washington  Irving,  and  most  treacherously  divulged  to  him 
the  whole  transaction,  adding  these  words:  "Now,  pray  don't  tell  this 
to  the  President  of  the  United  States ;  for,  if  you  should,  he  would 
make  America  devilish  uncomfortable  to  Charles  Morris."  "No,  I 
wont,"  was  his  humane  considerate  reply. 

Yours  very  truly,        James  Smith. 


To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Seapoint,  Oct.  15th,  1823. 
As  there  is  no  post  to-morrow,  I  write  a  few  lines  to  say  I  am  quite 
well ;  never  better^  and  all  is  well. 

A  little  bit  of  Irish : — I  desired  to  be  called  yesterday  morning.  I 
was  not  obeyed.  The  man  who  waits  on  Elder  and  me  was  taken  to 
task  for  it.  He  said,  *'  I  came  into  your  room,  sirr ;  but  you  were 
asleep,  and  so  I  did  not  call  you."  "If  I  had  been  awake,  you  would, 
then  ?"     "  I  should,  sirr." 

Epitaph  on  a  child  six  weeks  old: — 

I  wonder  what  I  was  begun  for, 
Since  I  was  so  soon  done  for. 

I  rejoice  to  hear  you  are  going  on  so  well  in  planting,  "  God  prosper 
you,  ma'am,  in  your  endeaviours."  My  houses  keep  up  to  the  mark. 
I  get  from  501.  to  70Z.  per  night.  The  "  Polly  Packet"  a  greater  hit 
than  the  other.  Daniel  O'Mourke  an  uproarious  favourite.  "  Dis- 
perse," a  screech.  Indeed,  I  have  every  reason  to  be  more  than 
flattered,  after  Catalani's  prodigious  haul. 

A  lady  here  has  a  Dow  Buckinghamish  sort  of  heard.    A  gentle- 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  299 

man  to-day  said,  "  It  would  be  indelicate  to  mention  it,  though  some- 
body ought  to  tell  her  of  it.  I  think  I'll  send  her  an  anonymous 
razor."  The  same  lady  was  rather  gummy  about  the  ankles.  The 
man  observed,  "  She  has  patent  heels,  to  keep  the  dust  out  of  her 
shoes,"  &c. 

C.  Mathews. 


To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Seapoint,  Oct.  20th,  1823. 

I  wish  you  would  write  a  line  to  James  Smith,  and  ask  if  he  received 
the  packet  I  sent  him  when  he  -was  at  Mr.  Hope's,  and  when  I  may 
expect  some,  for  my  anticipations  as  to  the  Entertainment  begin  to  be 
alarming.  In  former  times  I  have  been  perfect  in  three  or  four  songs 
by  the  month  of  J!^ovember.  I  dined  yesterday  with  Lord  Combermere, 
who  has  a  house  at  Monkstown.  We  had  a  great  laugh  over  the  old 
story  of  Major  Johnson,  and  the  bishop  and  the  lion,  I  had  a  very 
pleasant  day — quite  comfortable.  Show  me  a  bedroom,  I'll  swear  to 
people's  habits  who  have  furnished  it. 

I  made  an  angry  reply  to  a  beggar-woman  to-day : — "  I  have  no 
money."     "  Good  luck  to  you,  leave  us  a  lock  of  your  hair."     Adieu ! 

C.  Mathews. 


To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Dublin,  Oct.  20tb,  1823. 

I  am  heauUfuUy  well.  Such  divine  weather  I  have  never,  seen  for 
so  many  days  together  in  my  life.  I  need  not  comment  on  the  news 
about  Mitford.* 

Houses  keep  up  to  the  average  I  sent  you,  and  everything  is  right. 
I  am  in  robust  health,  and,  for  me,  good  spirits.  Am  rather  fatigued 
with  avoiding  invitations,  but  am  stout.  I  wander  daily  from  four  to 
five  hours  alone,  and  revel  in  the  solitude  I  so  much  prefer  to  talking. 
I  have  hired  a  chariot  for  my  play-nights.  I  seldom  come  home  alone. 
Last  night  a  party  of  twelve  of  the  boarders  went  to  the  theatre,  and 
returned  to  supper,  very  jolly,  quite  in  my  way.  Then  I  can  talk, 
because  I  ought  not,  I  suppose.  A  Galway  gentleman  here  said,  "  I 
shall  go  into  the  32nd  regiment ;  I  shall  be  nearer  my  brother,  who  is 
in  the  31st.  "f 

The  following  is  a  fact : — The  present  sheriff  at  his  dinner,  when 
somebody  proposed  the  Duke  of  Wellington's  health — "The  First 
Captain  of  the  Age" — actually  gave  out  "  The  First  Chaplain  of  the 
Age !"  He  is  a  cutler,  and  when  his  health  was  proposed,  a  wag 
whispered  to  the  band,  who  had  played  appropriate  tunes  to  the  other 

*  Another  of  his  honourable  debtors. 
+  This  anecdote  has  been  introduced  by  Mr.  Lever  into  '*  Charles  O'Malley," 
and  put  into  the  mouth  of  the  celebrated  Dr.  Morris  Quill. 


SOO  THE  LIFE  AND   COEKESPONDENCE  OF 

toasts,  to  play  "  Terry  heigho  the  Grinder  /"  which  was  done  !  The 
king  shook  hands  with  a  peasant,  when  he  was  here,  who  said,  "  I'll 
not  wash  that  hand  for  a  twelvemonth,"  One  little  bit  at  parting : — A 
drunken  fellow  taken  home  by  his  friend,  was  challenged  by  another : 
**  Who  is  that  ?  Where  are  you  going  ?"  &c.  "  Why,  I  think  your 
friend  has  had  too  much  ?"  "  Why,  I  think  he  had  better  have  divided 
it  fairly,  half  to-day  and  half  to-morrow."  A  watchman  came  up. 
"  How  much  has  he  drunk  ?"  said  a  by-stander.  "  A  gallon  at  laste  !" 
"  Then  I  take  him  into,  custody  for  carrying  off  a  gallon  of  liquor 
without  3L.;permit !"' 

Q.  Mathews. 


To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Liverpool,  Nov.  4th,  1823. 

As  there  are  perils  by  land,  as  well  as  by  sea,  I  think  it  is  proper, 
right,  respectful,  and  dutiful,  to  inform  you  of  my  safe  arrival  here, 
after  a  very  narrow  escape  from  smothering.  Don't  be  alarmed — only 
from  human  breaths.  With  three  such  brutes  never  did  man  travel ! 
There  was  no  possibility  of  getting  a  breath  of  air,  but  by  quarrelling. 
Not  even  the  commonplace  politeness  of  a  coach-traveller  was  practised : 
"Would  it  be  agreeable  to  have  this  window  up  P"  No,  up  it  went ! 
I  watched  them  to  sleep,  stole  it  down.  In  a  few  minutes,  up ! — and 
down  again ;  and  so  on,  without  a  word.  Three  great  hulking  rascals, 
too,  and  afraid  of  cold,  pretty  dears!  All  Lancashire  men  of  com- 
merce !  I  could  make  no  impression.  At  last,  when  we  stopped  to 
change  liorses,  I  engaged  an  Irishman,  who  had  been  a  brother  in 
affliction  in  the  packet  with  me,  and  an  outside  passenger,  to  break  the 
window  with  his  heel,  which  I  paid  for ;  and  thus  I  arrived  alive.  If  I 
can  judge  of  physiognomy,  which  I  had  the  opportunity  of  studying  at 
breakfast,  at  Chester,. I  was  suspected.  I  determined  to  put  it  out  of 
all  doubt  before  we  parted ;  and  when  I  was  no  longer  doomed  to  keep 
company^  in  the  boat  crossing  the  Mersey,  I  asked  the  guard  the  price 
of  the  glass,  and  paid  for  it,  to  the  utter  amazement  of  the  calico- 
printers..  The  faces  of  the  party  would  have  been  a  subject  for  Wilkie ; 
particularly  the  Irishman  and  the  guard,  who  evidently  had  a  perception 
of  the  humorous.. 

I  was  too  much  elated  upon  my  landing,  after  such  horrors,  and  the 
sight  of  the  dear  little  Welsh  hats,,  and  the  clean  faces,  and  the  com- 
fortable appearance  of  a  wretched  Welsh  town,  and  mixing  with  inha- 
bitants where  murder  is  unknown!  to  think. of  expressing  anything  but 
pleasure  at  being  safe ;  I  therefore  forgot  to  announce  the  receipt  of 
this  renowned  manuscript,  this  mysterious  American  packet,  which  has 
made  more  noise  than  ever  stupid  negro  song  created  before ;  for  it  is 
literally  nothing  else.  It  is  the  mountain  and  the  mouse.  I  don't 
know  which  was  the  greatest  ass,  the  man  who  wrote  it,  or  the  man 
that  sent  it.     It  would  not  have  been  tolerable  without  the  excitement 


CHARLES  MATHEWS,  301 

of  three  weeks*  expectation  and  suspense,  "but  with  it,  the  reading  was 
an  absolute  affliction.     But  no  matter,  let  that  end. 

I  arrived  here  this  morning,  after  fifteen  hours,  from  Holyhead.  It 
would  not  have  suited  my  poor  little  trembling  wife.  Three  ferries  had 
I  to  cross  to  avoid  Parkgate, — three  of  them !  and  two  in  the  dark ; 
first,  Bangor,  then  Conway,  and  then  the  Mersey.  Luckily,  the  weather 
was  very  fine.  In  wet  weather  I  have  no  notion  of  so  miserable  a  journey, 
as  that  must  be.  I  got  here  at  seven  o'clock,  none  the  worse,  thank 
God !  I  can  say  no  more  on  the  Mitford  business  than  I  did  before. 
Here's  human  nature !  What  a  piece  of  work  is  man !  How  vil- 
lanous  in  conception !  how  deformed  in  all  his  propensities  !  how  base 
to  his  fellow  man !  how  doubly  base  to  a  woman ! 

This  is  a  drunken-looking  letter  on  reading  it  over ;  but  four  hours' 
sleep  have  not  recovered  me,  strong  as  I  am,  from  the  last  four  days' 
real  fatigue  and  anxiety.  I  2m.  ferry  tired.  God  love  and  preserve  my 
dearest  wife  for  her  affectionate  husband, 

C.  Mathews. 

On  March  25tli,  Mr.  Mathews  performed  his  new  Entertain- 
ment at  the  English  Opera-house,  called,  as  the  bill  of  the  night 
will  show,  his 

TEIP  TO  AMERICA. 

Part  I. — Exordium. — Tourists. — Embarking  on  Board  the  William 
TJiompson. — Speaking  Trumpet. — Whimsical  Coincidence  of  Names. 
— Yellow  Fever. — In  Sight  of  New  York. — Land  at  Hoboken. — New 
Brunswick. — English  Importations. — Jack  Topham  and  his  Cousin 
Bray. — Waterloo  Hotel,  Liverpool,  contrasted  with  Washington  Hotel, 
Elizabeth  Town. — ^ American  Phrases  expounded. — Cool  Landlord. — 
Hot  Wine. — Arrival  at  Bristol  (in  America). — First  Appearance  at 
Baltimore. — Philadelphia. — Steam-boat  and  Stage-coach  Characters.-— 
Arrival  at  New  York. 

Song — Mrs.  BradisTis  Boarding  House. 

More  Characters. — American  Fun. — Mr.  Raventop,  the  American 
Jester. — Major  Grimstone,  "  very  well." — Mr.  Pennington. — American 
Strictures  on  English  Tourists. — War. — Public  Dinner. — General  Jack- 
son.— French  Poet  Laureat. 

Song — Ode  to  General  Jackson, 

American  Army. — Irregular  Regulars. — Muskets  and  Umbrellas. 

^ong— Militia  Muster  Folk. 

Part  II. — African  Theatre. — Black  Tragedian,  "To  be,  or  not 
to  her 

Song — Opossum  up  a  Gum  Tree;  real  negro  melody. 

Definition  of  the  word  Yankee. — Jack  Topham  on  the  Natives.— 
Arrival  at  Boston. — Bunker's  Hill. — A  eeal  Yankee,  Jonathan  W. 
Doubikin,  and  his  Uncle  Ben. — John  and  Jonathan  on  "  I  guess,"  and 
"  You  know."^~Mons.  Mallet.— Election. 


802  THE  LIFE  AND  COREESPONDENCE  OF 

Song — Boston  Post  Office. 

Providence. — Enticements  for  Mr.  Mathews  to  Perform. — Court  of 
Justice. — Charge  to  the  Jury. — Emigration  discouraged  by  a  British 
Farmer. — Disabled  Goods  and  Chattels. 

Song — Illinois  Inventory. 

Maximilian  the  Nigger  {Anglice,  Negro),  and  the  Snuffbox  — Pre- 
parations to  depart. — Farewell  Finale. 

Paet  III. — A  Monopolylogue,  called 

All  Well  at  Nachitoches  ! 

Colonel  Hiram  Peglar,  a  Kentucky  Shoemaker. 
Agamemnon,  a  poor  runaway  Negro, 
Jonathan  W.  Doubikin,  a  real  Yankee  (his  master). 
Monsieur  Capote,  a  French  Emigrant  Tailor. 
Mr.  0' Sullivan,  an  Irish  Improver  of  his  Fortune. 

*^*  All  the  Characters  of 'the  Entertainment  to  be  represented  by 
Mr.  Mathews. 

The  following  will  convey  the  pith  of  the  various  accounts  of 
this  Entertainment  published  at  the  time ; —  » 

Mr.  Mathews,  in  his  late  trip  to  America,  has  not  failed  to  catch 
many  of  the  leading  characteristics  oi  Jonathan,  for  the  amusement  of 
his  friend  John.  He  commences  his  "  Lecture"  on  the  peculiarities, 
characters,  and  manners  he  has  seen  during  his  late  trans-Atlantic  trip, 
by  observing,  that  the  same  motive  which  induced  Columbus  to  quit 
his  native  shores,  also  impelled  him  to  undertake  this  voyage — the 
*'  auri  sacra  fames."  After  a  ludicrous  account  of  his  embarking  on 
board  the  William  Thompson,  and  an  introduction  to  his  friends  Jack 
Topham  and  his  Cousin  Bray,  the  former  a  determined  punster,  and 
the  latter  an  enthusiastic  admirer  of  his  relation's  wit,  we  become  ac- 
quainted with  an  American  landlord,  the  coolness  of  whose  temper,  and 
the  heat  of  whose  wine,  form  a  curious  contrast  to  the  ready  accommoda- 
tion of  an  English  house  of  reception.  This  phlegmatic  host  is 
described  to  have  had  curiosity  in  his  eye,  and  a  segar  in  his  mouth. 
He  gets  dinner  for  nobody  who  comes  after  his  usual  hour,  and  treats 
his  customers  as  if  they  were  soliciting  a  favour  rather  than  conferring 
a  benefit.  The  port-wine  is  mistaken  by  Jack  for  "  mulled  Day  and 
Martin,"  and  the  other  parts  of  the  Entertainment,  which  were  pro- 
cured with  so  much  difficulty,  were  equally  doubtful  to  the  well-prac- 
tised taste  of  a  Londoner. 

At  Baltimore  Mr.  Mathews  meets  with  so  much  kindness  and  hospi- 
tality that  he  was  inclined  to  think  himself  "  at  home."  He  regrets 
that  tourists,  who  satirise  the  places  they  visit  with  so  much  asperity, 
should  not  first  examine  their  own  capabilities  of  enjoyment  before  they 
deal  so  harshly  with  those  whose  kindness  deserves  a  better  return  than 
the  unmerited  disgust  which  has  sometimes  been  excited  against  them, 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  SOS 

by  those  who  carried  discontent  in  their  own  breasts,  and  were  prede- 
termined to  be  displeased  with  everything.  On  board  the  steam- 
packet,  which  transports  our  hero  to  Philadelphia,  an  Irishman,  who 
has  never  yet  set  eyes  on  a  turtle,  and  is  as  little  acquainted  with  its 
appearance  as  its  taste,  is  anxious  to  know  whether  those  on  board  are 
"  real  or  mock  turtle."  The  roads  in  America,  it  appears,  have  not  yet 
been  improved  by  that  Colossus  in  the  art  of  road-making,  Mr.  M'Adam ; 
and  upon  the  sensitive  traveller  no  trifling  pain  is  inflicted  during  his 
transportations  in  those  moving  dungeons  the  American  stage-coaches. 

To  follow  Mr.  Mathews  during  the  whole  of  his  eccentric  career 
would  be  impossible.  We  must  pass  over  much  accurate  delineation  of 
national  manner,  and  many  happy  descriptions  of  individual  character. 
At  the  latter  end  of  the  Second  Part  we  have  a  description  of  a  "  charge 
to  a  grand-jury  "  by  an  American  judge,  of  the  most  ludicrous  natm'e. 
Among  other  learned  definitions  which  this  legal  prodigy  lays  down  to 
the  jurymen  is,  that  bigamy  is  constituted  by  a  man  marrying  two 
wives,  and  polygamy  by  a  woman  marrying  more  than  two  husbands. 

Part  the  Third  contains  a  monopoly logue,  called  "All  Well  at  Na- 
chitoches ! "  in  which  Mr.  Mathews  represents  six  characters  with 
wonderful  ability  and  adroitness.  In  the  course  of  the  entertainment 
we  were  furnished  with  many  highly  amusing  sketches  of  American 
character  and  independence.  Mr.  Mathews,  however,  never  deals 
harshly  either  with  the  national  manners  or  individual  peculiarities, 
and  takes  every  opportunity  of  doing  justice  to  the  good  fellowship 
with  which  he  was  treated.  Mr.  Mathews's  trip  will,  no  doubt,  prove 
equally  attractive  with  his  former  amusements,  and  draw,  whenever  he 
is  "  At  Home,"  a  crowded  audience.  We  should  observe,  that  all  the 
characters  of  the  evening's  entertainment  are  represented  by  Mr. 
Mathews,  with  the  exception  of  that  of  a  live  pon}',  which  is  merely 
introduced  because  he  is  wanted  to  draw. 

The  picture  of  a  French  emigrant,  a  Monsieur  Mallet,  was  a  power- 
ful piece  of  acting.  We  never  beheld  anything  more  complete,  mas- 
terly, and  affecting.  Poor  Mallet  anxiously  expected  a  letter  at  the 
Boston  post-office  from  his  family ;  and  though  it  was  there  all  the  time 
of  his  numerous  inquiries,  he  did  not  receive  it  for  weeks,  owing  to  the 
French  pronunciation  of  his  name,  Mallay.  "  Had  you  said  Mall^^," 
coolly  replied  the  Republican,  "I  should  have  known."  The  varied 
emotions  of  the  Frenchman — joy  at  having  received  the  letter,  and  rage 
against  the  otfice-keeper  for  detaining  it,  during  the  expression  of  which 
he  unconsciously  tears  the  unread  letter  to  tatters — were  vigorously 
portrayed.  The  whole  of  this  episode  was,  perhaps,  the  ablest  piece 
of  acting  in  the  production.* 

We  "  guess  "  that  we  may  "  calculate  "  on  a  "  pretty  considerable  " 
intermingling  in  our  conversations  of  the  American  colloquialisms  and 
idioms. 

*  An  Irish  critic  observed  upon  this  episode  that  "  if  Sterne  had  written  it 
he  would  have  selected  Mathews  to  represent  it,"  adding,  that  "it  was  in- 
tensely aff"ecting,  and  the  naore  aflfecting  from  the  glare  of  humour,  and  joke, 
and  merriment,  with  which  this  deep  shade  of  tragedy  was  surrounded." 


804j  THE  LIFE  AND  COKRESPONDENCE  OF 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

Letter  from  the  Right  Honourable  J.  W.  Croker  to  Mr.  Mathews — Letter  to 
Mrs.  Mathews  :  Disturbance  at  the  Dublin  Theatje — Mr.  Talbot's  attempts 
to  thwart  the  success  of  Mr.  Mathews — Letters  to  Mrs.  Mathews :  passage 
to  Ireland  —  Unlucky  speculations  of  Mr.  Mathews  —  Letters  to  Mrs. 
Mathews. 

Eaelt  in  the  year  1824,  a  new  club-house  was  formed,  called 
the  Athenasum,  and  Mr.  Mathews  became  a  member  of  it,  through 
the  following  compHmentary  medium : — 

To  Charles  Mathews,  Esq. 

Admiralty,  23rd  March,  1824. 
Dear  Sir, — At  a  meeting  of  the  New  Literary  and  Scientific  Club, 
held  yesterday,  I  did  myself  the  honour  of  proposing  you  as  a  member 
of  that  institution;  and  I  was  unanimously  authorized  to  acquaint  you 
that  the  Club  will  be  most  happy  if  you  should  be  inclined  to  join  our 
society.  I  enclose  you  a  prospectus  and  list  of  the  names  of  our  present 
members,  and  have  the  honour  to  be, 

Your  faithful  humble  servant,        J.  W.  Ceokee. 


To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Dublin,  "Wednesday. 
I  enclose,  per  Speaker's  frank,  some  report  of  my  progress.  Tonson 
is  a  great  choke-pear.  G — y  cut  me ;  would  Talbot  had  done  the  same, 
or  rather,  Mrs.  Talbot.  I  have  not  time  to  write  full  particulars ;  but 
the  enclosed  extract  of  a  paper,  marked  No.  1,  will  give  you  some 
notion  of  the  disgraceful  scene  that  took  place  on  Monday  night.  Talbot 
is  the  stock  Morbleu,  which  he  makes  a  monkey — a  ballet-master — in 
short,  a  stage  Frenchman.  Mrs.  Talbot  is  the  greatest  intriguer  in  the 
world  J  you  recollect  the  Limerick  plot  P 

Theatre  Royal. — Tuesday  evening's  entertainment  should  have  con- 
cluded with  Monsieur  Tonson.  We  have  often  admired  Mr.  Talbot  in 
the  character  of  Monsieur  Tonson;  and  the  praises  of  the  London 
critics  had  prepared  us  for  being  equally  delighted  and  amused  by  Mr. 
Mathews.  We  have  been  disappointed, — not  through  any  fault  of  Mr. 
Mathews,  but  by  the  disgraceful  conduct  of  a  few  persons  in  the  gal- 
leries, who  commenced  hissing  and  calhng  for  Talbot  as  soon  as  Mathews 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  305. 

appeared,  although  the  whole  house  (with  the  exception  of  these  few) 
"  applauded  him  to  the  very  echo."  Mr.  Mathews  felt  himself  unable  to 
proceed,  and  retired  from  the  stage.  In  a  few  minutes  Mr.  Farren 
came  forward,  and  said,  "  Ladies  and  gentlemen,  it  is  with  the  greatest 
reluctance  I  appear  before  you;  but,  at  the  solicitation  of  Mr.  Mathews, 
I  beg  to  know  how  he  has  incurred  your  displeasure."  Several  voices 
called  out  that  the  disturbance  was  caused  by  some  fellows  in  the 
middle  gallery. 

Mr.  Mathews  then  came  forward  and  was  received  with  loud  applause; 
but  he  had  scarce!}'  proceeded  twenty  lines  when  the  uproar  compelled 
him  to  leave  the  stage  a  second  time.  Mr.  Abbot  then  came  forward, 
and  begged  leave  to  inform  the  audience  that  Mr.  Mathews  had  per- 
formed the  character  of  Monsieur  Morhleu  with  the  most  decided 
success  in  London.  He  had  come  here  with  considerable  inconvenience 
to  himself  to  serve  him  (Mr.  Abbot),  and  had  always  been  heretofore 
welcomed  by  the  Dublin  audience,  which  he  (Mr.  Abbot)  could  perceive 
was  the  case  at  present,  with  a  very  slight  exception ;  but  even  partial 
displeasure  was  so  unusual  to  Mr.  Mathews,  that  he  felt  himself  unable 
to  proceed  until  it  was  removed.  Mr.  Abbot  concluded  by  saying  he 
was  certain  it  proceeded  from  Mr.  Talbot's  pretended  friends,  and  that 
it  was  most  disagreeable  to  that  gentleman. 

After  this  address  the  piece  was  suffered  to  proceed  without  inter- 
ruption until  the  middle  of  the  second  act,  when  the  hissing  was  again 
resumed.  Mr.  Mathews  then  addressed  the  audience  in  nearly  the  fol- 
lowing words : — 

"  Ladies  and  gentlemen, — I  am  totally  unprepared  for  such  an  attack 
as  this,  and  am  therefore  incapable  of  answering  it.  I  had  flattered 
myself  that  I  had  played  the  character  of  Morhleu  in  London  with 
some  success ;  and  I  feel  that  I  shall  not  at  this  time  of  life,  supported 
with  the  approbation  of  a  London  audience,  shrink  into  insignificance 
at  so  paltry  a  show  of  displeasure.  I  have  always  received  a  most 
liberal  share  of  support  from  the  Dublin  audience.  However,  if  they 
should  now  express  their  disapprobation  of  me,  I  shall  bow  to  it  with 
the  greatest  humility.  The  only  mortification  I  shall  feel  is  my  conse- 
quent inability  to  do  justice  to  the  character." 

It  was  destined  that,  in  all  Mr.  Mathews's  engagements  in 
Ireland,  something  quite  apart  from  public  and  general  feeling, 
something  harassing  and  irritating  to  his  temper,  was  to  take 
place,  and  put  him  out  of  humour  for  the  time.  The  present 
was  a  very  flagrant  case  of  baseness.  It  appeared,  since  the 
early  days  when  the  names  of  Talbot  and  Mathews  were  first 
coupled,  that  Mr.  Talbot  had  descended  from  his  tragedy  stilts 
"to  shuffle  about  as  the  lean  and  slippered  pantaloon"  of  farce. 
From  that  time  friendship  seemed  to  have  subsided  in  the  breast 
of  Mr.  Talbot  into  a  foolish  attempt  at  rivalry.  In  1808,  some 
"  compunctious  visitings"  of  a  transient  kind  induced  him,  after 

X 


S(^6  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

receiving  an  undeserved  instance  of  Mr.  Mathews's  kindness,  to 
address  a  long  letter  to  him,  from  which  I  extract  the  most 
material  part. 

Allow  me  to  express  now  the  pleasure  you  have  afforded  me,  and  the 
high  idea  you  have  forced  me  to  conceive  of  your  heart,  by  the  kind- 
ness you  have  bestowed,  and  the  cordiality  you  have  received  me  with, 
after  the  coolness  of  my  conduct  towards  you,  and  the  censure  and 
abuse  I  so  liberally  bestowed  upon  you.  Not  to  dwell  on  a  subject 
which  occasions  me  some  feelings  of  remorse,  a  letter  wherein  I  thought 
we  were  jointly  reflected  on,  by  insinuation  after  our  visit  to  Wales, 
was  the  principal  cause  of  my  conduct. 

Your  sincere  friend,        Montague  Talbot. 

After  this  letter,  the  friends  never  met  until  the  year  1816, 
when  Mr.  Talbot  had  a  relapse  of  his  weakness  ;  and  it  followed 
that,  because  Mr.  Mathews  was  engaged  to  perform  in  Limerick, 
at  the  principal  theatre,  while  Mr.  Talbot  was  manager  of  a 
minor  one,  every  mean  contrivance  was  resorted  to  to  injure  the 
receipts  of  the  major  establishment  (traced  to  Mr.  Talbot)^ 
such  as  paragraphs  asserting  the  utter  want  of  safety  in  the 
building,  if  crowded,  &c. ;  and  though  we  had  never  seen  him 
from  the  time  of  the  paragraph  I  have  extracted  from  his  letter, 
and  therefore  could  not  have  offended  him,  he  neither  called  nor 
took  any  notice  during  our  stay  in  Limerick,  but  in  the  manner 
above  described. 

The  following  is  Mr.  Mathews's  account  to  me  of  the  recent 
circumstance : — 

I  was  attacked  with  hisses— Off!— off!— Talbot!— Talbot!— before! 
spoke  one  word.  Fellows  were  taken  up  all  armed  with  bludgeons. 
The  managers  had  hints  that  something  was  likely  to  occur  on  my 
opening  night ;  and  Abbot  and  Farren  were  prepared  by  anonymous 
letters  for  the  direct  war  of  Monday  night,  though  I  was  not.  It  was 
a  painful  situation.  My  pride  supported  me ;  nothing  ever  did  brace 
my  nerves  and  rouse  my  energies  equal  to  an  undeserved  hiss. 

In  the  second  act  I  left  the  stage,  with  a  determination  never  to  set 
foot  on  it  again.  I  begged  of  Abbot  to  gratify  my  pride  by  going  on 
the  stage  to  say  that  I  had  withdrawn  myself. 

The  stage  was  unoccupied  for  at  least  ten  minutes,  during  which 
time  I  had  been  firm  of  purpose :  Abbot  and  Farren  both  petitioning 
me  to  go  on.  I  positively  refused ;  but  a  cue  for  the  demolition  of  the 
chandelier  being  given,  I  dreaded  further  row  for  Abbot's  sake,  and 
therefore  repented  and  rushed  on,     I  never  behaved  so  well  to  myself. 

One  part  of  my  speech  is  too  tamely  reported  in  the  account  of  it. 
J  said  these  exact  words : — "  If  in  your  judgment  I  am  unqualified  to 
.perform  the  part  of  Morhleu,  I  must  necessarily  bow  to  your  decision; 
but  I  beg  it  may  be  distinctly  understood,  that  having  for  years  been 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  307 

honoured  with  the  approbation  of  a  London  audience,  no  mark  of  dis- 
pleasure here  can  make  me  shrink  into  insignificance,  and  much  less 
the  paltry  attempts  made  by  a  hired  part3\"  If  I  had  not  been  cheered 
after  this  as  I  was,  I  had  arranged  another  sentence  in  my  mind ;  I 
however  conquered.  Last  night  was  a  very  fine  house  ;  and  the  "  Trip" 
was  received  with  acclamations;  and  my  Irishman,  which  I  always 
contend  is  not  appreciated  in  London,  was  my  greatest  hit  of  the  night. 
I  was  huzzaed  at  the  close. 

If  I  have  not  directed  properly  to  the  Speaker,  you  will  tell  me  so. 
The  conspiracy  has  served  me,  and  my  independence  is  applauded  by 
those  whose  opinions  are  worth  having. 

Chaelbs  Mathews. 


To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Seapoint,  Oct.  17th,  1824. 

I  am  going  on  in  the  same  steady  course,  which  will  give  me  about 
500Z.  sterling,  I  expect,  clear  of  all  expenses.  When  I  came,  my  friends 
all  pulled  faces,  and  thought  me  a  "  little  d — d  mad,"  to  come  at  this 
period  after  the  greatest  drag  ever  known  in  Dublin. 

Plant  away — plant  away !  A  very  disagreeable,  stiff,  vulgar,  young 
woman  here,  fancying  herself  quite  illigant,  said  the  other  day,  in 
confidence  to  another  female,  "  There  is  not  a  gintleman  in  the  house. 
Wait  till  my  brother  comes ;  then  they'll  see  a  gintleman."  He 
arrived,  and  a  more  unlicked  cub  I  never  saw.  His  gentility  consisted 
entirely  in  mincing  the  language  which  he  flattered  himself  he  was 
speaking  with  proper  nicety : — "  It's  a  favourable  dee  to  see  the  hee. 
Wester,  bring  the  tay."  "  I  went  to  the  veel  of  Avoca,  and  ate  so 
much  vale  that  my  hid  eched,"  &c.     After  two  days'  knowledge  of 

him,  the   friend  said :  "  Ah !   Miss   M ,  when  does  your  other 

brother  come  ?"     Ha !  neat. 

C.  Mathews. 


To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Dublin,  Dec.  8th,  1824. 
It  snowed  the  whole  way  to  Conway  Ferry.  We  turned  out  of  a 
warm  coach,  an^l  walked  a  quarter  of  a  mile  to  the  ferry.  Snowing ! 
wet  boat !  wet  feet !  wet  everything !  Trundled  in,  and  tumbled  out 
in  fifteen  miles  more.  Crossed  Bangor.  More  wet  boats  and  boots. 
Here  I  brought  guard  to  confession,  that  the  packet  did  not  wait  one 
minute  beyond  nine  for  the  Chester  mail.  It  was  then  half-past  six 
instead  of  three,  and  we  had  twenty-three  miles  to  go.  I  told  guard 
and  coachman,  that  if  I  was  too  late  for  the  packet  I  would  bring  an 
action  against  the  proprietors.  By  galloping  we  arrived  at  five  minutes 
to  nine.  Six  minutes  later,  I  should  have  seen  the  smoke  from  the 
chimney  of  the  steamer  scudding  from  English  land,  and  had  twenty- 
four  hours  to  spend  at  the  World's  End.     This  was  my  first  piece  of 


808  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

good  fortune.  The  day  was  lovely,  and  I  enjoyed  my  passage  much. 
The  next  morning  it  blew  a  gale,  and  rained  all  day. 

How  extraordinary  that  the  snow  did  not  reach  you !  It  never 
ceased  from  the  time  I  awoke  on  Saturday  morning  until  four  on 
Sunday  morning ;  and  here  there  was  skating  on  Sunday.  I  had  not 
time  for  breakfast  at  Holyhead,  so  by  a  curious  fatality  I  was  thirty- 
six  hours  without  a  meal,  and  should  have  been  forty  but  for  the  sand- 
wiches. It  is  quite  a  prejudice  that  eating  is  necessary  on  a  journey. 
Yesterday  I  walked  half  a  mile  before  I  could  find  a  chemist's ;  at  last 
I  pounced  upon  one.  "  Any  healing  plaister  ?"  "  We  have  not,  suvr." 
"Walked  to  a  second  :  same  answer.  A  third  ;  the  same ;  until  I  was 
at  a  loss  to  conjecture  why  I  could  not  be  served.  I  was  directed  to 
an  apothecary's.  Still  "  No."  At  last  it  occurred  to  me  to  try  a  new 
expedient.  "  Can  you  not  procure  or  prepare  me  some  halemg  plaister.^" 
The  mystery  was  solved ;  my  unfortunate  English  accent  was  not  to 
be  understood  by  these  illigant  Irish  spakers. 

Ever  affectionately,  &c.,        C.  Mathews. 

At  the  end  of  this  year  Mr.  Mathews  was  induced,  by  the 
persuasions  of  some  interested  persons,  to  embark  large  sums  in 
the  purchase  of  shares  in  two  "Companies;"  and  not  only  did 
he  eventually  lose  all  the  money  which  he  had  at  various  times 
paid  for  the  shares,  but  he  had  to  avert  actions  afterwards 
brought  against  him  as  a  shareholder,  for  sums  due  to  the  trades- 
men employed  by  the  Companies.  I  pass  over  these  events  as 
rapidly  as  possible,  as  a  detail  of  them  would  be  very  uninterest- 
ing and  tedious  to  the  reader,  as  well  as  painful  to  my  own  feel- 
ings, which  suffered  intensely  at  the  time. 

To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Newry,  Jan.  4th,  1825. 
I  have  to  announce  again  my  safe  arrival.  I  finished  last  night  at 
Belfast,  and  made  by  my  week  llOZ.  This  was  in  proportion  better 
than  Dublin ;  but  this  is  a  distracted  country,  and  theatricals  suffer  in 
common  with  the  rest.  I  need  not  say  that  your  letter  to-day,  which 
welcomed  me  as  I  got  into  the  chaise  (indeed  I  waited  for  it),  filled 
these  eyes  with  tears  which  would  have  been  dry  enough  at  parting 

with  .     The  opinion   of  the   dear   Speaker   of  our  blessing  and 

treasure  was  as  gratifying  to  me  to  read  as  I  am  sure  it  was  to  you  to 
write.  God  bless  him  and  you,  and  preserve  you  both  to  him  who  lives 
but  for  you,  unalterably  and  affectionately. 

C.  Mathews. 


I 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  309 

To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Newry,  Jan.  12th,  1825. 
How  are  you  all  at  Highgate,  3'ou  happy  creatures  ?     "  How  little 
does  the  landsman  know !"     Ah !  very  fine !     Well ;  the  letter  opposite 
must  be  sealed ;  and  when  shaken  to  be  then  taken— as  directed. 

C.  Mathews. 

I  have  nothing  to  say  and  no  time  to  say  it  in.  By  the  time  you 
receive  this  I  shall  have  arrived,  please  God,  and  have  performed,  in 
Liverpool.  "  This  country  never  was,  and  never  will  be,  what  it  was 
before  the  union."  (!)     "  Good !  now  that  I  heard." 

C.  Mathews. 


To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Liverpool,  Jan.  11th,  1825. 
Another  safe  arrival,  thank  God !  after  the  much-dreaded  Liverpool 
passage.  I  did  not  come  by  Parkgate,  indeed.  1  left  Dublin  at  half- 
past  two  yesterday,  and  before  six  was  in  bed  at  the  Waterloo,  having 
been  only  thirteen  hours  on  the  passage,  most  calm  and  delightful,  and 
not  to  be  expected  at  this  time  of  the  year.  The  instant  I  was  up  I 
was  obliged  to  go  to  the  theatre ;  and  you  may  perhaps  fancy  the  sort 
of  day  I  have  spent.  Strange  dressers,  strange  musician,  strange 
everything.  I  have  been  six  hours  hard  at  work,  and  have  only  just 
time  to  get  my  dinner  and  return  to  my  work.  I  am  blessed  with  my 
usual  strength,  and  more  than  usual  in  my  hip,  that  was  lame.  It 
will  be  enough,  I  trust,  to  say,  that  England  has  cheered  me  on  my 
arrival  from  Ireland.  All  the  dress-boxes  are  taken  for  to-night  and 
Thursday ;  and  as  the  town  cannot  be  accommodated  in  two  nights, 
such  is  their  anxiety  to  hear  my  "  Trip,"  they  hope  I  will  stay  a  third. 
Bravo ! 

C.  Mathews. 


To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Liverpool,  Jan.  20th,  1825. 
Not  so  great  last  night ;  but  the  book  is  capital  for  to-morrow.  This 
trip  will  give  me  nearly  500Z.  in  the  five  nights.  Bravo !— the  greatest 
thing  I  have  ever  done  out  of  London.  I  am  childishly  impatient  now 
to  get  home,  where  I  hope  to  find  you  and  dear  Charles  well.  I  am  in 
excellent  health  and  spirits,  cheered  greatly,  too,  by  my  faith  in  Messrs. 
Grey  and  Brodie. 

C.  Mathews. 


310  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

Mr.  Mathews's  new  entertainment,  called  his  ''Memorandum  Book" — Pro- 
gramme— Description  of  the  performance — Letter  from  Mr.  J.  G-.  Lockhart 
to  Mr.  Mathews — Letters  to  Mrs.  Mathews :  Plymouth  gaieties :  Expedition 
to  Loo — Letter  to  Mrs,  Mathews :  Mr.  Farley  and  the  cat  in  the  boot — Mr. 
Mathews's  visit  to  Scotland — Letter  to  Mrs,  Mathews :  Introduction  of 
Mr.  C.  J.  Mathews  to  Sir  Walter  Scott:  Invitation  to  Abbotsford :  Sir 
"Walter  and  the  novels — Anecdote  of  an  old  laird — A  Scotch  hackney- 
coachman. 

After  the  rehearsal  dinner  at  the  cottage,  to  the  select  and 
critical  friends  who  annually  favoured  my  husband  with  their 
"most  attentive  hearing,"  and  made  their  valuable  comments 
upon  his  forthcoming  Entertainment,  he  once  more  opened  the 
English  Opera-house  with  new  materials,  in  the  form  of — 

MR.  MATHEWS'S  MEMORANDUM-BOOK 

Of  Peculiarities,  Characters,  and  Manners,  collected  during  his 
various  Trips. 

Paet  I. — Family  Fireside.— -Thoughts  on  Trips. — Mrs.  Tinsel,  of 
Parish. — Charitable  Neighbour. — John's  Wages. — Memorandum- 
Book  Opened. 

Song — Memoranda  in  Confusion. 

Authors,  Actors,  Managers,  and  Critics. — Mr.  King  of  the  Crown. — 
Regal  Innkeeper. — King,  Lords,  and  Commons.-r-Nat  Glibb. — Waiter. 
— Prime  Minister. — "  Make  every  Body  Comfortable." 

^OTL^— Night  Coach. 

Mr.  Doublechin. — A  Lady  of  some  Weight. — Mr.  Frost. — Improvi- 
dent Traveller.  Mr.  Quiverton. — Everlasting  Singer. — Testy. — Jona- 
than on  the  Roof — Travelling  Astronomer. — How  to  prevent  Sleep  in 
a  Coach.— Mr.  Allum,  the  Writing  Chemist,  and  his  Uncle,  Mr.  Chris- 
topher Chyle.— Food  and  Poison.— Mr.  Allbutt.— The  Fortunate  Youth, 
and  his  Friend,  a  Man  of  Few  Words.— Old  Startle.— Calamities  of 
Prosperity.— How  to  dispose  of  your  Money. 

Song — JBuhhleSy  a  Capital  Song. 
Speculations. — Shares. — Companies. — Sinking   Funds.  —  Gas. — Mr 
Fleece. — Tunnels. — Silver  Mines. — Lord  Drowsy. — Unique  Projects. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  811 

Part  IT. — Coffee  House. — Allura. — Chyle, — Death  in  the  Pot.— 
Scientific  Starvation. — Adulteration. — Bread,  Wine,  Coffee. — Tea  and 
Milk  Analyzed.— Mr.  AUbutt. 

Song — Sailing  Match. 

Preparations  for  a  Boat-full  of  Pleasure. — Mr.  Brownrigf^  and  Family. 
— Mr.  Literal. — Ballustrade  Pillory. — Politesse  of  Lord  Chesterfield. — 
Lumbago. — Antelope  and  Penelope. — Royal  Anecdote. — Sailing  Match 
Lost. — Music  on  the  Water. — Catastrophe. — Kemble  and  Bensley. — 
Hamlet  and  Ghost. — Red  Arsenic. — Methusalem. — Country  Bank  Notes, 
— Solicitors. — "  As  you  were,"  and  "  As  you  are." 

Song — Old  and  New  Times. 

M'Adam. — Coffee-houses  and  Club-houses. — Working  Company.— 
Civility  to  Animals,  &c. — Invitation  to  Dinner. — Chyle's  Haunch. — 
Deaf  Housekeeper. — Trumpet  Duet  without  Music. — Novel  Watchman. 
— "  What's  o'clock  ?" 

Song — Public  Office  in  Bow-street. 

Night  Charges. — Mr.  Chubb  and  his  Wooden  Leg. — Wizen  and 
O'Halloran. — Miss  Fumbustle. — Desperate  Assault. — Voiceless  Com- 
plainant.— Ebenezer  Dumps  and  his  Bail. — O'Fagan  and  his  Wife. — 
Hibernian  Dispute. — Native  Witnesses. — Illegality  of  Police  Reports. — 
Mr.  Mathews  going  to  Gloucester. — Mr.  and  Mrs.  Chyle. — Allum. — 
"  Finale,"  by  Mr.  Mathews,  Mrs.  Chyle,  Mr.  Chyle,  Mr.  Allum,  and 
Allbutt's  Friend. 

Part  III. — A  Monopolylogue,  to  be  called  the 

Crown  In-n  Danger. 

Nat  Glibb,  a  Waiter Mr.  Mathews ! 

Friaswaffer,  a  Tender-hearted  German  Cook       .  Mr.  Mathews  ! ! 
Molly    Gramachree,    an     Itinerant    from    the 

Emerald  Isle Mr.  Mathews ! ! ! 

Thady,  her  Son Mr.  Mathews  ! ! ! ! 

Mr.  Christopher  Chyle,  come  out  Pleasuring      .  Mr.  Mathews ! ! ! ! ! 

Mr.  Allum,  come  out  Experimentalizing    .         .  Mr.  Mathews !!!!!! 
Brother  Simple,  of  the  Loyal  Laughing  Lodge 

of  Free  and  Accepted  Masons        .         .         .  Mr.  Mathews! !!!!!! 

And,  Mr.  Mathews  on  a  Provincial  Trip. 

Amongst  the  memorable  guests  at  Ivy  Cottage,  the  following 
short  letter  will  record  a  name  which  I  am  proud  to  associate 
with  that  of  my  husband ;  regretting  at  the  same  time  that  I 
do  not  possess  any  more  important  communication  from  the 
same  distinguished  pen  wherewith  to  grace  these  pages. 


312  THE  LIFE  AND  CORKESPONDENCE  OF 


To  C.  Mathews,  Esq. 
Northumberland-street,  Edinburgli,  March,  1825. 

Deae  Sib, — I  was  asked  lately  by  Mr.  Croker  to  get  for  him  a  speci- 
men of  the  handwriting  of  Home,  author  of  "  Douglas."  I  applied 
accordingly  to  his  relations  here,  and  have  got  more  than  I  wanted ; 
that  is,  two  letters,  and  two  scraps  of  the  original  rough  draft  of 
"  Douglas." 

It  occurred  to  me  that  one  letter  and  one  bit  of  "  Douglas  "  might  be 
acceptable  to  you,  in  case  you  had  not  anything  of  Mr.  Home's  in  your 
invaluable  collection  of  autographs ;  so  I  accordingly  enclose  them. 

May  I  beg  you  to  present  my  best  respects  to  Mrs.  Mathews  j  and 
to  assure  her  that  I  shall  never  forget  the  charming  day  I  spent  at  the 
most  charming  of  all  cottages. 

Yours  very  sincerely,        J.  G.  Lockhaet. 


To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Brummy,  Wednesday. 
Though  I  am  upon  the  wing  to  get  out  of  this  dull  town,  five  miles 
to  my  namesake,  Mathews,  I  cannot  resist  sending  you  a  few  lines,  to 
thank  you  for  your  delightful  communications.  I  had  a  letter  from 
dear  Charley  yesterday,  with  seven  verses  of  a  song  for  Jonathan,  out  of 
which  I  can  pick  some  very  good  ones.  I  wrote  to  thank  him  for  his 
pains  last  night.  I  ruralized  yesterday  for  a  chop  dinner ;  and,  as  I 
have  nothing  of  my  own  to  say,  I  will  just  give  you  a  specimen  of  an 
epitaph  that  I  think  good.  The  mourning  husband  puts  his  initials  at 
the  bottom  of  the  lines. 

**  Hannah,  wife  of  Greorge  Onions. 

She  was — 
But  words  are  wanting  to  say  what. 
Look  what  a  wife  should  be, 
And  she  was  that. 

GO." 

Affectionately  yours,        C.  Mathews. 


To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Plymouth,  July  24th,  1825. 

I  have  been  junketing,  and  did  not  return  until  seven  last  night; 
when  I  found  your  welcome  letter,  announcing  your  and  Charles's 
health.  This  morning  I  have  received  another  letter  from  you,  which 
has  grieved  me  most  sincerely.  Your  words  are  precisely  what  I  should 
have  written  to  another  upon  the  melancholy  subject  of  poor  Louisa. 
Believe  me,  I  am  as  much  affected  as  you  are.  If  she  is  allowed  to  move 
from  London,  I  hope  you  will  persuade  her  mother  to  let  her  come  into 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  313 

Devonshire.  The  air,  I  understand,  is  marvellous  for  consumptive 
people.* 

I  dine  to-day  with  Lord  Grey,  who  has  come  here  for  the  health  of 
his  children.  "  Oh,  the  mayor  of  Loo."  Liston's  mayor  is  gone  ;  but 
I  saw  one.  Captain  Cox,  whom  I  met  at  Stephenson's,  made  me 
promise  to  visit  him  at  Loo.  Such  an  expedition !  I  shall  never  forget 
it ;  but  must  reserve  the  description  until  I  see  you.  The  commence- 
ment of  the  expedition  will  give  you  some  little  idea  of  it,  and  that  you 
shall  have.  I  received  a  note  saying  that  if  I  would  embark  on  board 
the  Falmouth  steam-boat.  Captain  Cox  would  come  off  in  a  boat  from 
Loo,  where  the  steam-boat  will  not  land  passengers.  Well,  he  came 
not!  Boat-signal  hoisted — gun  fired — all  to  no  purpose — no  boat. 
What  is  to  be  done  ?  Where  can  I  land  ?  Must  I  go  to  Falmouth, 
forty-five  miles,  and  no  getting  back  in  time  to  act  to-morrow  ?  "  No  : 
land  you  at  Towey ;  nine  miles  further,  and  twelve  from  Loo."  Any- 
thing !     Put  me  on  shore.     Not  one  gig  or  carriage  of  any  description 

to  be  had ;  only  saddle-horses.     G and  I  mounted,  with  a  guide  on 

foot,  carrying  our  bags.  Precipices  to  ride  over — the  guide  had  never 
been  the  road!  and  such  a  road  I  never  saw  in  the  wildest  part 
of  America !  Frequently  we  encountered  four  roads,  and  sometimes 
six ;  a  stone  for  a  direction-post  occasionally  occurred,  on  one  side  of 
which  appeared  "  Loo,"  and  on  the  other  "  Lost,"  being  an  abbreviation 
of  Lostwithiel.  We  were  four  hours  and  a  half  in  a  broiling  sun,  which 
peeled  the  skin  quite  off  my  nose. — Epitaph  at  Loo : — 

*  *  Here  lies 

The  bhghted  hopes  of  a  Mother, 

And  the  blasted  expectations  of  a  Father." 

I  have  received  nearly  200Z.  by  my  week.  Very  great  indeed.  I 
shall  do  as  well  at  Exeter.     No  start  can  do  better  than  the  year  1825  ! 

Not  a  bit  of  my  head  complaint  from  the  time  I  sniffed  the  sea-air. 
I  have  been  three  hours  in  the  bay  to-day.  Pray  convey  love  to  Louisa, 
and  my  most  affectionate  condolence  to  her  mother. 

Ever  affectionately  yours,        C.  Mathews. 

P.S.  A  very  pleasant  day  indeed  at  Lord  Grey's. 


To  Mrs.  Mathetvs. 

Cheltenham,  Oct.  14th,  1825. 
"  How  sweet  is  our  rest  on  Sunday !  "     I  have  got  through  a  week 
of  unparalleled  fatigue ;  having  played  three  nights  running, — one  at 
Gloucester,  and  last  night  here.     I  am,  however,  well,  notwithstanding 
the  worry  I  have  suffered  in  rehearsing. 

I  am  delighted  at  the  cheerful  tone  of  your  letter,  which  is  the  first 
really  merry  letter  I  have  received  from  you  since  I  letl  home.  I  never 
will  believe  you  are  well  when  I  cannot  make  out  your  writing.     Not 

*  This  deep  concern  related  to  the  present  Mrs.  Fairlie. 


814  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

one  word  have  I  squeezed  out  of  you  in  reply  to  any  of  mine.  Look 
over  my  last,  if  you  have  kept  it. 

Farley*  and  I  are  left  to  breakfast  alone.  We  had,  or  rather  I  had, 
such  a  joke  against  him!     I  have  picked  up  a  curious  imitation,  and 

with  it  a  story  of  Sir  I — c  C n, — a  most  absurd,  insane,  eccentric 

propensity  of  the  admiral ;  the  hero  of  which  is  a  cat  put  in  a  boot.  I 
had  convulsed  Farley  with  laughter  at  this  story ;  he  roared  whenever 
I  reminded  him  of  it,  even  by  one  word.  I  went  over  to  Gloucester 
with  Charles  Young,  to  see  the  play  and  return  with  him  in  his  phaeton. 
Farley  was  acting  in  the  after-piece  of  the  "  Broken  Sword,"  and  in  perfect 
earnest  pouring  out  his  melodramatic  sentiment,  when  suddenly  a  tall 
figure  in  a  red  cloak,  with  his  back  to  the  audience,  tall  hat,  very  high 
feathers,  stalked  across  the  stage,  with  a  boot  in  his  hand,  from  the  top 
of  which  peeped  out  the  head  of  a  kitten,  which  was  evidently  struggling 
for  escape.  I  was  on  and  off  like  lightning.  He  was  so  completely 
overcome  that  he  screeched  with  laughter,  and  ran  off.  Imagine  the 
rest. 

There  is  not  a  word  about  poor  Louisa — not  a  word  about  the  new 
Entertainment — whether  Charles  has  heard  of  the  plan,  &c. 

Ever  affectionately  yours,        C.  Mathews. 

Shortly  after  the  above  correspondence,  my  husband  and  son 
(who  was  travelling  with  him)  returned  home,  and  at  the  ap- 
pointed time  proceeded  without  me  to  Scotland. 

To  Mr».  Mathews. 

Edinbtirgh,  23rd  Dec.  1825. 

In  addition  to  my  own  success  here,  which  is  keeping  up  to  the  mark, 
and  will  in  all  probability  give  me  500Z.  quite  clear,  I  have  to  announce 
the  success  of  our  all  in  all,  dear  Charles.  He  first  made  a  strong  im- 
pression on  Jeffery  at  Eckersall's  (George)— no  small  boast.  On 
Tuesday  we  met  the  man  of  men,  the  great  Weil-Known,  at  James 
Ballantyne's.  Charles  was  all  hopes,  all  fears.  Ballantyne,  with  great 
kindness,  placed  him  next  Sir  Walter  at  dinnei*.  He  soon  cheered  him 
with  his  affability ;  and  his  good  humour  brought  out  our  son.  He 
was  very  successful.  Sir  Walter  was  very  much  struck  with  the 
"  Eoman  sermon,"  lauded  it  highly,  and  Charles's  song  was  repeatedly 
cheered  by  him  with  "  vary  clever — oh,  exceedingly  good — excellent, 
indeed !  "  When  I  went  into  the  drawing-room,  Ballantyne  took  me 
with  great  mystery  into  his  library,  and  said,  "  Your  son  has  made  a 
great  impression  on  Sir  Walter,  and  I  think  you  ought  to  know  it,  and 
treasure  it  up.  He  said  he  was  a  very  clever  and  a  very  modest  young 
man;  and  added,  that  he  wa«  exceedingly  struck  with  him." 

This  ended  in  an  invitation  to  Abbotsford,  and  a  request  that  I  would 
bring  Charles  with  me  ;  and  in  his  brief  way,  said  :  "  He  *s  a  very  nice 
lad  that,  and  exceedingly  clever."     Cadell  met  me  next  day,  and  said 

*  Charles  Farley,  a  good  actor  and  an  excellent  stage  manager,  died  January, 
1859,  in  the  eighty -eighth  year  of  his  age. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  315 

what  a  valuable  thing  it  was  to  Charles  to  have  hit  the  bard  so  power- 
fully ;  "  for  you  may  depend  upon  this,"  said  he,  "  Scott  never  flatters. 
His  praise  is  indeed  worth  having."  You  may  suppose  how  gratified 
papa  was.  Charles  had  the  advantage,  too,  of  meeting  Mr.  Playfair, 
the  architect,  who  invited  him  next  day,  showed  him  his  drawings,  &c. 
In  short,  I  look  upon  this  trip  as  one  of  the  most  foi-tunate  and  impor- 
tant events  in  his  lite ;  and  I  have  resolved,  in  spite  of  all  pursuits  in 
Wales,  to  keep  him  here  to  go  to  Abbotsford.  We  shall  go  after  I  have 
finished  at  Glasgow,  about  the  8th  of  January. 

Luckily  it  has  reconciled  me  to  a  disappointment  which  alone  could 
have  afforded  me  the  opportunity  of  going  myself:  this  gives  me  some 
spare  days,  which  I  am  sure  you  will  rejoice  can  be  turned  to  such 
account  for  our  good  fellow.  1  hope  you  will  feel  as  warmly  as  I  do 
about  this,  and  encourage  me  in  encouraging  him  to  neglect  his  business 
for  such  an  event  *  Next  to  an  invitation  to  Carlton  House,  I  value 
this.  He  is  the  king  of  Scottish  society ;  and  none  but  persons  of  rank 
and  talent  can  get  invitations  to  Abbotsford.  I  am  proud  and  happy  If 
Charles  is  already  convinced  of  the  value  of  the  Scottish  character. 
Not  one  instance  of  neglect,  or  falling  off..  Too  many  invitations.  On 
Christmas  Day  we  dine  with  Constable,  near  Roslyn  Castle,  and  sleep 
there.  For  the  first  time  in  all  our  long  acquaintance  he  has  thrown  off  the 
veil  of  mystery  respecting  Scott  and  the  novels.  He  told  me  that  he  is 
preparing  for  the  press  a  novel  called  "  Woodstock,"  and  the  "  Life  of 
Bonaparte."  He  called  the  other  day,  and  found  Scott  with  both 
manuscripts  on  the  table,  writing  alternately  a  fragment  of  each.  He 
said  that  his  mind  was  relieved  by  leaving  a  dry  matter  of  history  to 
indulge  in  the  imaginative,  and  equally  so  after  indulging  in  the  regions 
of  fancy  by  returning  to  the  contemplation  of  biographical  facts.  This 
will  be  a  pretty  bit  for  Mrs.  Wilson  and  the  disbelievers.^ 

C.  Mathews. 

*  Charles  was  building  in  Wales. 

t  "Mathews  used  often  to  refer  with  great  delight,"  says  Mr.  Patmore, 
*'and  even  with  a  tinge  of  personal  pride  (for  it  would  be  unjust  to  call  it 
vanity),  to  his  intimacy  with  Walter  Scott,  whom  he  visited  several  times  at 
Abbotsford,  when  the  poet  was  at  the  height  of  his  fame  and  popularity  as 
'  The  Great  Unknown.'  Indeed,  I  do  not ,  call  to  mind  a  single  instance, 
except  that  of  Scott,  in  which  his  references  to  his  intimacy  with  the  great  and 
distinguished  of  the  world  were  blended  with  any  appearance  of  exultation  or 
self-satisfaction.  But  in  the  case  of  Scott,  he  evidently  piqued  himself  upon 
the  intercourse,  as  if  he  felt  it  to  be  an  honour  and  a  favour.  He  (Mathews) 
used  to  imitate  the  poet's  tone,  manner,  and  mode  of  speech,  in  a  way  that  was 
quite  delightful  to  those  who,  like  myself,  had  never  seen  that  illustrious  man. 
This  was  the  more  striking  from  a  remarkable  resemblance  which  the  eyes  and 
brow  of  Mathews  bore  to  the  portraits,  at  least,  of  Scott.  I  believe  I  was  the 
first  to  remark  this  resemblance ;  and  Mathews  was  evidently  not  a  little 
pleased  with  the  observation .  It  was  particularly  conspicuous  in  a  bust  of 
Mathews  by  Behnes,  I  think,"  [the  bust  alluded  to  was  Joseph's,  and  the 
resemblance  spoken  of  has  often  been  noticed,]  ''which  used  to  form  a  part 
of  his  theatrical  gallery  at  Kentish  Town." 

4:  In  Mr.  Patmore's  "Recollections,"  that  gentleman  has  attributed  this 


316  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

The  circumstance  of  Mr.  Mathews's  dwelHng  in  this  letter 
so  emphatically  upon  the  superiority  of  the  Scottish  character, 
reminds  me  of  several  anecdotes  related  by  him  in  reference  to 
the  lower  orders  of  that  country,  who  partook  of  the  respect 
which  the  higher  ranks  excited  in  him  at  all  times. 

I  remember  his  telling  me  a  story  of  his  having  dined  a  short 
distance  from  Edinburgh,  accompanied  by  an  old  laird  much  in 
the  habit  of  exceeding  discreet  limits,  when  he  found  himself 
induced  by  good  wine  and  good  company  to  take  more  of  the 
former  than  he  was  justified  in  doing.  On  the  occasion  in  ques- 
tion, he  had  taken  Mr.  Mathews  in  his  carriage  to  the  house 
where  they  dined  on  a  Saturday  evening.  On  their  return  to 
Edinburgh  after  midnight,  when  they  reached  the  toll-bar 
through  which  they  had  passed  on  the  evening  of  the  day  before, 
the  usual  demand  was  made  by  the  pretty  daughter  of  the  toll- 
keeper,  which  the  laird  resisted  on  the  plea  that  he  had  paid  on 
first  passing  through,  and  should  not  pay  again.  The  young 
girl  reminded  the  laird  that  it  was  now  another  day  ;  that  the 
Sabbath  morn  had  broken  upon  his  return ;  and,  therefore,  she 
expected  a  fresh  payment.  But  the  impracticable  laird  persisted 
in  his  wrong-headed  determination  not  to  pay  a  second  toll  on 
one  day.  It  was  in  vain  his  friends  expostulated  and  endeavoured 
to  discharge  the  claim,  in  order  to  get  home.  The  unreasonable 
laird  would  not  permit  his  friends  or  his  servants  to  satisfy  the 
demand,  and  he  applied  the  most  violent  and  unbecoming  lan- 
guage and  epithets  to  the  girl ;  all  which  she  received  with  great 
meekness,  nevertheless  with  unflinching  determination  not  to 
unlock  the  gate  without  the  toll  being  first  paid.  The  fury  of 
the  laird,  and  the  continuation  of  the  noise,  at  length  induced 
an  old  woman  in  her  night-dress  to  peer  out  of  an  upper  win- 
dow, with  the  question  of,  "  Eh  !  Maggy,  what's  the  gentleman 
saying?"  when  the  girl  wittily  replied,  " Ah,  mither!  it's  no 
the  gentleman  ;  it's  the  wine  that  speaks!"  Strange  to  say, 
this  sobered  the  laird,  who  demurely  ordered  his  servant  to  "  gi'e 
the  lassie  her  will  for  once,  though  'twas  hard  to  pay  twice  in 
one  day." 

Asa  pendant  to  the  preceding  picture  of  native  good  sense 
and  moderation,  I  add  the  following  anecdote  : — 

During  some  severe  weather,  Mr.  Mathews  had  hired  a 
hackney-coach  to  take  him  to  the  theatre  where  he  had  to  act. 

account  to  Mr.  Mathews's  personal  experience,  while  on  a  visit  to  Sir  Walter. 
The  mistake  was  natural,  after  so  long  a  lapse  of  time.  The  fact  has  only 
changed  its  authority. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  817 

Something  had  happened  several  times  to  derange  the  harness, 
and  the  driver,  a  steady  old  Scotchman,  had  been  obhged  to 
descend  from  his  box  to  put  it  in  order ;  but  a  third  occasion 
put  an  end  to  my  husband's  patience,  besides  giving  him  some 
alarm  lest  he  should  not  arrive  in  time  to  dress.  He  looked  out 
of  the  coach-window,  and  perceiving  the  man  very  deliberately 
tying  some  rope  together,  to  effect  the  necessary  repair,  some- 
what angrily  called  out  that  such  delays  were  very  provoking ; 
and  being  unable  to  induce  the  man  to  hasten  his  operations,  he 
exclaimed,  in  a  sharp  tone,  "  Be  pleased  to  remember  how  much 
time  I  am  losing." — "  Vary  weel,  sir,"  answered  the  man,  quietly 
and  slowly,  "  and  you  will  be  pleased  to  remember  that  I'm 
losing  just  as  much  time  as  yoursel'." 


3]S  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

Mr.  Mathews's  return  to  London — Letter  from  him  to  the  Duke  of  Montrose : 
embarrassing  request — Frequent  visits  of  the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Montrose 
to  Mr.  Mathews's  "At  Homes" — Zealous  support  by  Mr.  Mathews  of  the 
Theatrical  Fund — Letter  from  Mr.  Mathews  to  Mr.  Richard  Lane:  Ille- 
gible names — Mr.  Mathews's  seventh  "At  Home"  at  the  English  Opera- 
house —  Programme  of  the  entertainment — Letter  from  Dr.  Kitchener  to  Mr. 
Mathews  :  the  *'  Cook's  Oracle,"  the  *'  Housekeeper's  Ledger." 

On  Mr.  Mathews's  return,  to  prepare  for  re-opening  the  English 
Opera-house,  an  unexpected  and  novel  intimation  embarrassed 
him  exceedingly,  and  occasioned  him  to  address  the  Lord  Cham- 
berlain privately,  in  the  following  letter : — 

To  Sis  Grace  the  Duhe  of  Montrose. 

My  Lord  Duke, — On  arriving  in  London  for  the  purpose  of  com- 
pleting the  arrangements  for  my  new  entertainment,  I  have  been  thrown 
into  the  utmost  confusion  and  alarm  by  the  intelligence  which  Mr. 
Arnold  has  communicated  to  me,  that  your  Grace  has  called  upon  him 
for  a  written  copy  of  the  whole  matter  to  be  spoken  by  me,  in  order  to 
receive  your  Lordship's  licence. 

Without  presuming  to  enter  into  the  question  whether  an  entertain- 
ment delivered  wholly  by  one  person  can,  by  any  possible  construction, 
be  deemed  "  an  entertainment  of  the  stage,"  I  still  beg  leave  most  re- 
spectfully to  state  the  extreme  awkwardness  of  the  position  in  which  I 
am  placed  by  this  requisition. 

In  all  my  performances  for  so  many  years  past,  it  has  ever  been 
customary  for  the  several  characters  which  I  have  selected  to  be  arranged 
and  strung  together  in  something  like  the  order  of  a  story,  by  one  or 
two  other  persons;  that  is  to  say,  a  plan  has  been  laid  out,  which 
afforded  the  opportunity  of  introducing  characters,  anecdotes,  and 
incidents  which  1  have  intended  to  delineate ;  but  of  these  there  are 
hundreds  which  have  never  yet  been  committed  to  writing,  and  of 
which,  indeed,  I  could  give  no  idea  on  paper.  Your  Grace  has,  I  be- 
lieve, more  than  once  honoured  my  perlbrmance  with  your  presence  j 
and  your  Lordship  must,  therefore,  be  aware  how  utterly  impracticable 
the  attempt  would  be  to  convey  any  idea,  in  writing,  of  the  assump- 
tions of  character,  the  imitations  of  manner,  and  other  peculiarities,  of 
which  it  is  composed. 

These,  it  is  well  known,  have  never  been  personal,  nor  in  any  way 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  819 

offensive  to  any  individual.  On  this  I  have  always  prided  myself;  and, 
when  I  state,  that  several  of  my  entertainments  have  been  given  by  me 
at  Carlton  Palace,  by  His  Majesty's  express  command,  before  the  Royal 
Family  and  select  parties,  it  cannot,  I  conceive,  be  for  a  moment  sup- 
posed that  anything  like  immorality,  or  politics,  or  any  impropriety, 
ever  has  been,  or  ever  could  be,  attempted  by  me.  These  facts,  how- 
ever, I  should  not  urge  for  a  moment,  but  should  cheerfully  obey  your 
Lordship's  order,  were  it  not  for  the  annoying  difficulty,  which  I  have 
before  taken  the  liberty  to  mention,  and  which,  I  confess,  I  feel  to  be 
insurmountable. 

Having  stated  that  I  have  so  frequently  had  the  honour  of  giving  my 
entertainment  privately  before  His  Majesty,  I  feel  assured  that  your 
Grace  will  not  consider  it  improper  if  I  venture  to  say,  that  the  diffi- 
culty to  which  I  have  alluded  may  possibly  be  overcome,  if  your  Lord- 
ship would  condescend  to  hear,  rather  than  read  me !  and  allow  me  on 
any  evening  you  may  be  pleased  to  appoint,  to  go  through  my  new 
entertainment  in  the  presence  of  your  Grace  and  family,  and  thus 
enable  you  to  form  a  far  more  accurate  judgment  of  its  nature,  than 
could  possibly  be  derived  from  anything  that  could  be  written. 

I  trust  your  Lordship  will  not  consider  this  appeal  as  in  any  way 
improper  or  intrusive. 

I  have  the  honour  to  be,  my  Lord  Duke,  your  Grace's  most  respectful 
and  obedient  humble  servant, 

C.  Mathews. 

Whatever  mio-ht  have  actuated  the  Duke  to  express  the  desire 
which  drew  forth  Mr.  Mathews's  appeal,  the  latter  had  due 
weight,  and  produced  the  most  gratifying  result.  His  Grace  not 
only  gave  up  the  point  of  reading  the  new  matter,  but  also  de- 
clined, in  the  most  kind  form,  the  offered  recital  of  it ;  observing 
that  he  had  perfect  reliance  on  Mr.  Mathews's  good  taste  and 
feeling,  and  should  no  more  question  it. 

Ever  after  this,  the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Montrose  regularly 
visited  Mr.  Mathews's  "  At  Homes ;"  and,  on  such  occasions, 
his  Grace  generally  did  him  the  honour  to  go  round  to  his 
dressing-room  in  the  course  of  the  evening. 

One  of  the  songs,  never  written  down  to  this  day,  either  by 
author  or  singer,  was  "  London  at  Five  in  the  Morning,"  to  the 
tune  of  the  dance  in  "  Speed  the  Plough,"  which  tune  Mr.  Ma- 
thews sung  to  Charles  in  the  carriage  while  they  posted,  who 
composed  words  to  it  as  they  drove  along,  which  words  his  father 
learned  from  his  lips  before  the  end  of  their  journey. 

I  never,  after  this  occasion,  recollect  Mr.  Mathews's  being 
called  upon,  on  account  of  his  individual  novelties,  by  a  Lord 
Chamberlain. 

Ever  a  zealous  supporter  of  the  Theatrical  Fund,  for  the  sake 


S20  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

of  the  less  fortunate  in  the  profession,  Mr.  Mathews  invariably 
overcame  his  repugnance  to  a  public  dinner,  and  personally  con- 
tributed to  the  interests  of  each  anniversary.  However  incon- 
venient, or  even  detrimental  to  his  interest,  his  presence  in  London 
might  be,  I  have  known  him  not -only  often  give  uj)  most  plea- 
surable engagements,  but  on  several  occasions,  pecuniary  emolu- 
ment, in  order  to  add  his  name  and  exertions  to  the  general 
stock.  He  dreaded  the  occasion  as  much  as  a  man  could  do 
who  loved  quiet  and  air  better  than  a  crowd  and  a  heated  room ; 
and  when  an  extra  task  was  laid  upon  him,  and  he  was  required 
to  make  a  speech,  he  suffered  actual  illness  during  the  whole  day, 
from  anticipation  of  the  night's  attempt. 

On  the  present  occasion  he  travelled  an  enormous  journey  to 
serve  this  institution,  and  appeared  at  the  anniversary  dinner  as 
one  of  the  stewards. 

To  Sichard  Lane,  Esq. 

Ivy  Cottage,  March  11th,  1826. 

My  deae  Sie, — Many  thanks  for  your  kind  recollection  and  fulfil- 
ment of  your  promise.  The  Hogarth  is  a  gem,  an  unlooked-for  trea- 
sure. I  have  retained  one  of  each  of  the  packets  of  duplicates  and 
returned  the  remainder,  as  3'ou  requested ;  also  two  from  Ildgfkxl  and 
his  friend  Mzudfg.*  They  remain  wrapped  in  the  mystery  they  court, 
by  the  pains  they  take  to  conceal  themselves.  We  have  had  numerous 
conjectures  here  to-day.  Broderip  says  the  nobleman  is  evidently  Lord 
Sghfgpxl — Mrs.  Mathews,  the  Duke  of  Pxflu,  and  I  agree  with  her. 

As  to  the  performer  who  sent  you  tickets,  we  should  have  given  up 
all  hopes  of  discovering  him,  if  it  had  not  been  for  his  defeating  his 
own  scheme  by  so  plainly  pointing  out  his  own  residence,  34,  S.  JR. 
James  inmon.  "  Oh,"  said  I,  "  it  is  R.  W.  Ynamn." — "  Evidently," 
said  Broderip. 

Seriously,  I  am  evidently  very  much  indebted  to  you  for  your  very 
kind  present.     Mrs.  Mathews  joins  in  compliments  to  Mrs.  Lane. 

Very  sincerely  yours,        Chaeles  Mathews. 

In  March,  Mr.  Mathews  came  before  the  public  at  the  English 
Opera-house  in  his  seventh  "At  Home."  The  following  was  the 
announcement : — 

MR.  MATHEWS'S  INVITATIONS. 
Paet  I. — Exordium    on    Invitations. — Mr.    and     Mrs.    Fingerfit, 
E.S.V.P.— Mrs.  W.  Worrit,  attached  Friend.— Various  Ways  of  deli- 
vering Invitations. 

*  These  words  are  drawings  from  Mr.  Lane's  letter,  meant  as  a  good- 
humoured  satire  upon  a  careless  mode  of  writing,  which  he  often  did  play- 
fully, to  puzzle  those  whose  letters  he  could  not  read.  .  His  own  hand  was 
remarkably  clear. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  321 

Song — Two-penny  Post. 
Monday. — Ghost  of  a  Tune. — Invitation  to  Breakfast  with  Mr 
Shakely. — Master  Peter,  Peter  Master.— Nervous  Toilette. — Sir  Ben- 
jamin Blancmange.  —  Invalid  Duet,  without  harmony. — Friendly 
Fugues. — Lady  Dawdle's  Invitation  to  a  Pic-Nic  Party  to  Norwood. — 
"  Cook's  Oracle." — Recipe  for  concocting  a  Eout. 

Song—  Gipsying  Excursion  and  Quadrilles. 

Tuesday. — Invitation  to  Dinner  at  Sir  Donald  Scrupleton's. — Guests 
—Sir  Harry  Skelter,  a  disappointed  bird  of  passage. — America,  Nia- 
gara ;  Italy,  Vesuvius ;  North  Pole,  Noses. — Mr.  Popper  (Nephew  to 
the  celebrated  Major  Longbow).  —  Sporting  Anecdotes.  —  Staunch 
Pointer. — Invitation  to  the  King's  Theatre. 

Song — Visit  to  the  Italian  Opera. 

Paet  II. 

Wednesday. — Mr.  Archibald  M'Rhomboid. — Eobin  Crankie. — The 
late  Mr.  M'Pherson. — Spanish  Decapitation. — Head  and  Tale. 

Song — London  at  five  in  the  Morning. 

Thursday. — Invitation  to  dine  with  a  Friend  in  a  Family  way. — Mr. 
Dilberry  and  the  dear  little  Dilberrys. — Mr.  John  Rally. — Nursery 
Ballads  and  Smoking  Chimney. — Dinner. — Brilliant  Sonata  on  the 
Pianoforte  by  Miss  Jane  Dilberry. 

Song — {from  Der  Freischutz) — by  Master  Peter  Dilberry. 

Friday. — Invitation  to  a  "  Rouge  et  Noir"  Table. — Harry  Ar- 
dourly,  a  Yorkshire  Fox  Hunter. — Consequences  of  Gaming ;  the  Gaol, 
the  Mad-house. — Contrast. — Another  mad  Scene. — Invitation  to  the 
Hustings. 

Song — General  Flection. 

Saturday  Invitation  to  join  a  Civic  Aquatic  Expedition  on  the 
Thames.     Finale. 

Paet  III. — A  Monopolylogue,  to  be  called 

The  City  Baege! 

.^neas  Stirturtle,  Purveyor  to  the  Barge,  with  a  cold  in  his  head. 

Sir  Harry  Skelter,  endeavouring  to  see  something. 

Scully,  an  Antediluvian  Waterman. 

Mr.  Gibblets,  a  City  Adonis. 

Mrs.  Georgiana  Gritts,  a  Bone  of  Contention. 

Mr.  Sassafras,  an  Apothecary — Rival  to  Gibletts. 

Popper,  the  Sporting  Calendar. 

%*  All  the  above  characters  by  Mr.  Mathews. 

The  Songs  will  be  accompanied  on  the  pianoforte  by  Mr.  J.  T.  Harris, 
who  will  play  favourite  Rondos  between  the  parts. 

Y 


322  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

According  to  the  plan  I  have  hitherto  pursued,  I  here  subjoin 
a  contemporary  criticism  on  this  entertainment. 

Our  old  favourite  Mathews's  irresistible  "  Invitations"  to  his  "  At 
Home"  attracted  a  large  party  of  guests.  Never  were  actor  and 
audience  in  better  spirits,  or  more  pleased  with  each  other.  On  no 
former  occasion  were  the  versatile  powers  of  our  Proteus  more 
thoroughly  proved.  We  had  him  in  all  ages  and  conditions,  doing  great 
justice  to  each  character,  from  Methuselah  to  Mathews,  and  from 
Mathews  to  the  infant  "  mewling  in  his  nurse's  arms." 

Our  readers  can  have  no  idea  of  the  fun  of  a  pic-nic  party  till  they 
hear  it  described  by  Mathews  himself,  who  attended  one  by  invitation 
from  Lady  Dawdle.  Having  lost  all  their  dinner  store  by  the  oddest 
set  of  accidents,  they  were  not  so  fortunate  as  another  party,  consisting 
of  fourteen  members,  who  each  contributed  a  leg  of  mutton,  without 
suspecting  that  others  might  hit  upon  the  same  fare.  So  that  when 
there  were  fourteen  legs  of  mutton  on  the  board,  a  wag  proposed  that 
every  gentleman  should  eat  his  own  leg. 

Sir  Donald  Scrupleton  is  an  old  Scotch  baronet,  of  a  very  sceptical 
character,  much  inclined  to  dooting,  and  so  indistinct  in  his  utterance, 
that  one  intelligible  word  in  six  or  seven  is  as  much  as  any  reasonable 
hearer  has  a  right  to  expect. 

The  new  piece  abounds  in  the  vis  comica  as  much  as  any  that  have 
preceded  it;  but  a  single  touch  in  it  distinctly  marks  the  hand  of  a 
master,  and  far  exceeds  anything  that  Mathews  ever  did  before.  His  visit 
to  the  gaming-house  contains  as  impressive  a  lesson  of  morality  as  ever 
was  delivered  from  a  pulpit.  On  that  occasion,  Harry  Ardourly,  a 
Yorkshire  fox-hunter,  for  the  first  time  that  ever  he  entered  the  doors  of 
a  gaming-house,  had  the  misfortune  to  win  fifteen  hundred  pounds  at  a 
JRouge  et  Noir  table.  Success  created  a  passion  for  the  practice,  which 
was  indulged  to  the  ruin  of  the  unhappy  young  man's  estate ;  and  his 
mother  and  sisters  were  left  penniless  and  unprotected,  when  he  was 
consigned,  first  to  a  gaol,  and  finally  to  a  mad-house.  In  this  last  abode 
of  misery  he  fancied  himself  winning  back  his  lost  fortune,  and  on  the 
imaginary  success  of  a  cast,  he  raved  aloud,  "  I  have  it ! — 'tis  mine  I — 
I  have  recovered  my  estates — my  farms — my  sisters'  portions !  Mother, 
mother,  where  are  you  P  Receive  (fainting  as  in  his  mother's  arms)— 
mother,  receive  your  prodigal !"  After  this  picture,  it  was  an  effort  for 
Mathews,  and  for  him  alone,  to  force  the  house  to  resume  its  gaiety. 
"  *  I  never  after  the  longest  march  had  so  great  a  mind  for  my  dinner  as 
I  had  to  cry  with  him  for  company.  What  could  be  the  matter  with 
me,  an'  please  your  honour,'  quoth  the  corporal.  *  Nothing  in  the 
world.  Trim,'  said  my  Uncle  Toby,  blowing  his  nose ;  *  but  that  thou 
art  a  good-natured  fellow.' " 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  323 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

Mrs.  Richard  Wilson's  parties  —  Distinguished  guests  —  Letter  to  Mrs. 
Mathews — Offer  to  Mr.  Mathews  from  Mr.  Price  of  an  engagement  at  Drury- 
lane  Theatre — Mr.  Mathews  at  the  English  Opera-house  and  in  the  pro- 
vinces— Invitation  from  the  Duke  of  Clarence  to  Mr.  Mathews — Conversation 
between  him  and  his  Royal  Highness — Mr.  Mathews's  "At  Home"  at  the 
English  Opera-house  for  the  eighth  season — The  "Home  Circuit" — Pro- 
gramme— Account  of  the  performance — A  journal  from  Brighton — Singular 
Visitor  —  Mr.  Mathews's  acceptance  of  an  engagement  at  Drury-lane 
Theatre  —  Letter  from  Mr.  Charles  Lamb  to  Mr.  Barron  Field  —  Mr. 
Mathews's  appearance  at.  Drury-lane  Theatre — Great  success  of  the  per- 
formance— Mr.  Mathews's  journey  homewards  from  the  north — His  mail- 
coach  companions — A  damp  stranger — John  Luckie,  Baron  HuUock,  and 
Mr.  Brougham  —  Anecdote  —  Mr.  Mathews's  extraordinary  imitation  of 
children — Mr.  Liston  hoaxed  —  Mr.  Leigh  Hunt's  description  of  Mr. 
Mathews's  powers  —  Hospitality  of  Mr.  Thomas  Hill  —  The  Sydenham 
Sundays. 

At  the  close  of  this  season  Mr.  Mathews  indulged  himself  in  a 
few  days'  holiday  in  Suffolk,  at  the  house  of  some  very  old  and 
warm  friends,  now,  alas !  removed,  with  many  such,  who  would,  had 
they  existed,  have  proved  a  solace  to  me  in  my  bereavement.  I 
preserve  this  brief  allusion  to  a  friendship  of  more  than  thirty 
years,  as  a  memorial  of  the  once  happy  hours  passed  in  my 
girlish  days  in  the  midst  of  the  gaiety  so  widely  spread  by  Mrs. 
Richard  Wilson's  parties,  in  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields,  where  the 
noblest  of  the  land,  the  wittiest  and  wisest,  gayest  and  gravest, 
the  idle  and  the  busy,  assembled  with  one  common  feeling  of 
enjoyment.  There  have  I  seen  the  fine  face  of  the  lamented  Sir 
Samuel  Romilly,  with  his  lovely  and  amiable  lady  at  his  side, 
smiling  as  if  peace  was  for  ever  a  safe  inmate  in  his  bosom. 
Alas  for  this  remembrance !  Lords  Erskine  and  Eldon,  and  a 
long  list  of  nobles,  headed  by  Royalty  itself,  were  frequent,  and 
I  may  say,  familiar  guests,  at  Mr.  Wilson's  table,  where  all  the 
talents  were  associated.  Dear  old  Captain  Morris,  with  his  songs 
and  singing,  and  charming  society ;  Sheridan,  and  other  of  his 
noted  contemporaries,  the  youthful  Theodore  Hook  and  Horace 
Twiss  (just  rising  from  their  teens),  stood  prominently  forward, 

t2 


32 i  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

full  of  the  buoyancy,  wit,  and  talent  which  established  their 
respective  positions  in  the  high  and  intellectual  society  in  which 
they  both  lived.  Out  of  the  many  that  my  "mind's  eye"  now 
brings  before  me,  these  are  among  the  very  few  that  remain  to 
give  assent  to  the  truth  of  those  pleasant  hours  passed  in  that 
most  pleasant  house. 

To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Biddleston,  12tli  July,  1826. 
General  Grosvenor  has  given  me  a  frank,  or  I  believe  I  should  not 
have  written,  as  I  have  not  enough  to  say  worth  paying  for.  I  need 
not  say  how  delighted  I  was  at  the  receipt  of  dear  Charles's  letter.  It 
was  a  god-send  upon  my  arrival  here,  as,  indeed,  I  was  most  anxious 
to  hear  of  him.  His  letter  has  cheered  me  :  it  is  all  that  is  delightful. 
Charming  weather  !  Young  is  here — desires  love — wishes  to  know  if 
you  got  the  books  he  sent.  All  the  family  desire  love.  Percy*  is 
better  than  ever  I  saw  him  since  his  illness.  Mrs.  Randolph  desires 
particular  remembrance ;  wishes  you  were  here.  Pressed  upon  all  sides 
to  send  for  you  :  as  I  know  you  won't  come,  I  have  made  all  sorts  of 
excuses ;  but  feel  embarrassed,  as  I  cannot  give  such  a  one  as  I  should 
myself  allow  to  be  really  good  under  the  same  circumstances.  How- 
ever, we  are  all  slaves  to  something,  and  a  dislike  to  variety  is  an 
unhappy  specimen.  Locomotion  is  what  is  called  happiness  to  me ; 
that  is,  life  and  spirits.     God  bless  you  ! 

C.  Mathews. 

The  succeeding  letter  was  the  beginning  of  a  negotiation  with 
Mr.  Mathews  to  act  for  a  term  in  the  regular  drama,  at  Drury- 
lane.  An  allusion  is  made  in  it  to  a  second  visit  to  America, 
which,  however,  was  ultimately  set  aside,  such  a  step  being  in- 
consistent with  Mr.  Mathews's  home  views  at  that  period. 

London,  15tli  July,  1826. 
My  deae  Mathews, — I  have  released  Bish  from  his  contract,  upon 
his  paying  me  2000^.,  and  have  taken  the  theatre  at  my  old  terms, 
10,600^.  per  year.  I  can  only  beg  of  you  to  reserve  for  me  a  few 
nights  in  the  next  season,  in  any  contract  you  may  make  with  Arnold. 
For  God's  sake,  bear  me  in  mind.  I  feel  that  it  is  unnecessary  to  make 
anything  like  terms.  You  shall  say  what  they  shall  be.  You  and 
Listen  are  my  great  hopes.  A  letter  from  you  would  influence  him  : 
however,  do  not  write  it  if  it  be  disagreeable  to  you.  I  leave  London  on 
Friday,  twelve  o'clock,  and  Liverpool  ten  o'clock  on  Monday.  Our 
American  business  shall  be  well  digested  during  my  absence.  Write 
me  a  line  in  return.    Excuse  great  haste.     God  bless  you ! 

S.  Peice. 

*  Mr.  Wilson's  only  son,  named  after  his  godfather,  the  present  Duke  of 
Northumberland,  prematurely  taken  from  this  world  to  a  better. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  825 

In  the  autumn  of  this  year  Mr.  Mathews  accepted  a  dramatic 
engagement  for  a  few  weeks  at  the  English  Opera-house,  in  the 
course  of  which  one  of  the  most  genuine  farces  ever  produced 
upon  the  Enghsh  stage*  was  brought  forward,  in  which  Mr. 
Peake,  the  author,  displayed  Mr.  Mathews's  powers  to  peculiar 
advantage  in  the  character  of  Trefoil. 

After  his  engagement  at  the  English  Opera-house,  Mr. 
Mathews  made  a  short  tour. 

To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Liverpool,  Oct.  31st,  1826. 
Here  I  am  at  the  Waterloo ;  and  right  glad  to  be  in  a  comfortable 
house,  for  the  weather  is  wretched — heartbreaking. 

I  spent  a  very  jolly  day  with  Speidell  at  St.  John's  College,  and 
proceeded,  on  Thursday,  to  Stratford.  Dined  with  Saunders — and  sat 
up  all  night  reading  by  the  kitchen  fire  (no  other  in  the  house)  at  the 
Lion,  to  be  ready  lor  a  coach  that  always  came  at  half-past  three  until 
Friday  morning,  when  it  arrived  at  five ;  by  which  I  got  to  Birming- 
ham only  ten  minutes  before  my  Manchester  coach  started,  into  which 
I  trundled  with  three  damp  strangers.-^ 

C.  Mathews. 


Hampton  Court  Palace,  Nov.  26,  1826. 

The  Earl  of  Erroll  is  commanded  by  His  Koyal  Highness  the  Duke 
of  Clarence  to  request  the  favour  of  Mr.  Mathews's  company,  on 
Friday  evening  next,  at  Bush}'  House. 

Lord  Erroll  requests  the  pleasure  of  Mr.  Mathews's  company  at 
dinner,  on  that  day,  at  six  o'clock.  Lord  Erroll  will  have  a  bed  ready 
for  Mr.  Mathews. 

After  several  previous  arrangements  (and  disarrangements) 
for  Mr.  Mathews  to  entertain  the  Duke  of  Clarence,  the  time 
had  really  come.  He  accepted  Lord  ErroU's  invitation,  and  on 
the  day  in  question  went  to  Bushy.  In  the  evening  he  accom- 
panied his  noble  host  to  the  duke's  palace,  and  performed  to  a 
select  party  there,  returning  to  Lord  ErroU's  for  the  night. 

On  the  following  morning  Mr.  Mathews  was  requested  to 
attend  upon  the  Duke ;  and,  on  his  arrival,  was  shown  into  the 
room  where  his  Royal  Highness  and  the  Duchess  had  just 
breakfasted.  The  latter,  with  great  condescension,  said  a  few 
words  in  compliment  to  the  entertainment  she  had  received  on 

*  "Before  Breakfast." 
+  Amongst  the  eccentric  sayings  of  Mr.  Brummel  ("Beau  Brummel")  is 
recorded,  that  he  ascribed  a  severe  cold,  then  aflfecting  him,  to  the  casualty  of 
being  shown  into  a  room  with  a  damp  stranger. 


826  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

the  previous  niglit,  and  then  left  the  room.  The  next  moment 
Mr.  Mathews's  eye  was  fixed  upon  a  large-sized  portrait  of 
Mrs.  Jordan,  hanging  up,  I  think,  over  the  chimney-piece.  The 
Duke,  observing  this,  said,  "  I  know  you  have  a  collection  of 
theatrical  portraits,  Mr.  Mathews,  which  I  shall  ask  to  see  some 
day.  I  hope  you  have  not  one  like  that  ?  "  My  husband  did 
not  quite  understand  the  question,  and  his  look  probably  ex- 
pressed his  perplexity,  for  the  Duke  added,  "  I  mean  so  good  a 
likeness.  I  should  be  vexed  that  anybody  possessed  such  a  one 
but  myself— a  better  it  is  not  possible  to  find,  and  I  should  not 
like  anybody  else  to  have  as  good  a  one." 

Mr.  Mathews  replied  that  it  was  indeed  excellent,  and  that  he 
was  not  so  fortunate  as  to  possess  so  true  a  resemblance.  The 
Duke  then  gazed  upon  the  picture,  saying,  with  emotion  and 
strong  emphasis,  "She  was  one  of  the  best  of  women,  Mr. 
Mathews."  My  husband  felt  that  the  Duke  was  sincere  in  his 
belief:  indeed,  there  was  something  so  affecting  in  his  manner  of 
paying  this  simple  and  spontaneous  tribute  to  the  memory  of  the 
mother  of  his  children,  that  it  brought  tears  into  the  eyes  of 
him  to  whom  it  was  addressed.  The  Duke,  perceiving  this,  put 
forth  his  hand,  and  pressing  that  of  my  husband,  added,  "  You 
knew  her,  Mathews ;  therefore  must  have  known  her  excellence." 

After  a  short  and  pensive  pause,  the  Duke  diverted  the  con- 
versation from  the  interesting  subject  into  which  he  had  been 
betrayed,  to  the  scene  of  the  previous  night ;  and,  after  com- 
menting upon  what  most  pleased  him,  in  his  characteristically 
blunt  manner  said  something  in  reference  to  his  obligations,  and 
not  very  extensive  means  to  be  liberal.  This  was  touching  my 
husband  on  the  tenderest  point ;  and  while  he  hesitated  in  what 
becoming  manner  he  could  tell  one  of  the  royal  family  that  he 
did  not  Hke  payment  of  any  kind  out  of  the  regular  routine  of 
his  profession,  even  for  "obliging"  him,  the  Duke  put  a  little 
case  into  his  hand  (not  without  some  embarrassment  in  his  own 
manner  at  the  awkward  position  in  which  it  was  evident  my 
husband  felt  himself),  and  said,  "  Mathews,  I  am  not  rich  enough 
to  remunerate  such  talent  as  yours,  or  make  a  suitable  return 
for  your  kind  exertions  of  last  night,  which  delighted  us  all ; 
but  I  hope  you  will  gratify  me  by  your  acceptance  of  the  con- 
tents of  this  little  purse,  for  the  purpose  of  purchasing  some 
small  addition  to  your  collection  of  paintings,  in  remembrance 
of  me  and  of  the  original  of  that  portrait."* 

*  The  case  contained  a  50?.  note. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  327 

This  was  so  gracefully  though  simply  expressed,  that  my 
husband  made  his  bow  in  acknowledgment,  and  departed,  deeply 
touched  at  the  feeling  evidence  of  the  Duke's  recollections  of 
what  had  been. 

In  relating  this  fact  I  feel  unconscious  that  I  am  committing 
an  impropriety ;  for,  in  my  estimation,  the  King  of  England 
lost  nothing  of  the  respect  felt  for  him,  by  the  admitted  fact 
that  the  Prince  had  loved  the  mother  of  his  children. 

On  the  8th  of  March,  the  English  Opera-house,  for  the  eighth 
season,  presented  Mr.  Mathews  "  At  Home."  This  was  the 
announcement : — 

HOME  CIRCUIT;  or,  LONDON  GLEANINGS. 

Paet  I. — Exordium. — Pecuniary  Crisis,  Civic  Explanation  of. — 
Jack  Project. — Schemes. — Delights  of  Country  Acquaintance. — Visit 
to  Fulham. — Project's  Plan  to  make  Mr.  Mathews's  Fortune  by  a  mere 

Song — Medley  of  Melodists. 

Gleanings — Mr.  Domus:  '' LooJc  at  Some." — Commodore  Cos- 
mogony: ^^  Look  Abroad." — Mr.  Zachary  Barnacle  :  ^^  Look  Every- 
where."— Monument  on  Fish-street  Hill,  Pompey's  Pillar. — St.  Paul's, 
St.  Peter's. — River  Thames,  River  Nile. — Tower  of  London,  Tower  of 
Pekin. — CoflFee  House  Directory. — Hermitage  Hall,  Fulham. 

Song — Short  Stages. 

More  Gleanings — Ex- Justice,  Lawyer  Muzzle. — Penal  Code. — "  Do 
you  know  what  you  are  doing  ?" — Statutes  at  Large. — Mr.  Spinks, 
Rebus  Writer,  Ladies'  Diary. — Black  Eyes  and  Black  Act. — Feline 
Oculist. — Benefit  of  Betting. — Legal  Liabilities. — Mr.  Honeyman  and 
his  Honeymoon. — Marriage. — Barnacle's  Bewailings :  "  Losing  all  our 
Amusements." — Visit  to  Theatrical  Gallery  proposed,  previous  to  which, 
a  Peep  at  the  Auction  Mart,  and 

Royal  Exchange — in  a  Song. 

Paet  II. 

A  MoNOPOLTLOGUE,  to  introduce  the  Dead  alive,  entitled 
Mathews's  Deeam  ;  oe,  the  Theateical  Galleey  ! 

In  which  will  be  exhibited  whole-length  Portraits  of  the  la,te 

Messrs.  Suett,  in  Dicky  Gossip. 

Kemble,  in  JPenruddock. 

King,  in  Sir  Peter  Teazle. 

Cooke,  in  Sir  Pertinax  Macsycophant. 
Incledon,  in  The  Storm. 

Cum  multis  aliis  post  obit  Recollections,  depicted  from  the  Life, 
by  Mr.  Mathews.— The  Scene  painted  by  Mr.  Roberts. 


828  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


Paet  III.— Gleanings  continued. 

Leather  Lane  Parthenon,  or  Mechanical  Athenaeum. — Mr.  Sandy 
M'Sillergrip,  with  his  Lecture. — Arts  and  Sciences  made  Easy. — 
Barnacle  redivivus. — More  Lamentations. — Gog  and  Magog.— Hurdy- 
gurdies. — Decay  of  Dancing  Bears. — Loss  of  the  Lotteries. — Things 
that  were. 

Song — Things  that  were  not. 

Fresh  Gleanings — Thames  Expedition, — Commodore  Cosmogony's 
Colloquies. — Ked  House,  Battersea;  Golden  House,  Bhurtpore. — 
Batter-sea,  Black  Sea,  Dead  Sea,  and  Red  Sea. — Pigeon-shooting : 
Tiger-shooting. — Vauxhall  Haras  :  Westphalia  Hams. — Visit  to  the 
Exhibition  proposed. — Sketch  in  Water  Colours. — Joe  Hatch,  the 
Thames  Chancellor,  Boat  Barrister,  and  Regal  Legal  Waterman. — 
Somerset  House. 

Song — Royal  Academy. 

Additional  Gleanings — Mr.  Aspinall  and  his  Man  Andrew. — Per- 
sonification of  Fear. — Castellated  Mansion. — Alarms  and  Alarum  Bells. 
Prevention  is  better  than  Cure. — Gipsies. — Robberies  forestalled. — Mr. 
Muzzle :  more  Statutes. — Mr.  Spinks  :  Reiteration  of  Rebuses.  —Com- 
pounding Felony. — Real  Cockney  Gleanings. 

Song — Epping  Hunt. 
Messrs.  Cosmogony,  Muzzle,  Spinks,  and  Mathews. — Finale. 

The  Songs  will  be  accompanied  on  the  Pianoforte  by  Mr.  James  T. 
Harris,  who  will  play  favourite  Rondos  between  the  Parts. 

Mr.  Mathews,  after  reaping  a  rich  harvest  in  foreign  countries,  places 
his  scenes  and  adventures  of  character  at  home,  within  the  sound  of 
Bow  bell,  where  he  finds  that,  to  the  acute  observei-,  much  remains  to 
be  explored.  His  chief  associates  are  Commodore  Cosmogony,  a  "travel- 
ler," with  as  exhaustless  a  fund  of  invention  as  Major  Longbow  himself, 
and  so  attached  to  the  rare  sights  to  be  met  with  abroad,  that  he  owns  no 
acquaintance  with  the  Monument,  St.  Paul's,  or  the  Thames ;  Lawyer 
Muzzle,  a  walking  digest  of  the  statutes  at  large,  who,  for  the  simplest 
action,  can  quote  a  law  which  makes  it  penal ;  Mr.  Zachary  Barnacle,  a 
pessimist ;  and  Spinks,  a  village  tradesman,  addicted  to  the  Muses,  who 
retails  bad  jokes  and  stale  conundrums,  to  which  Mathews  contrives,  how- 
ever, by  his  inimitable  manner,  to  give  more  effect  than  the  most  original 
wit  and  humour  would  have  produced  in  other  hands.  A  butt  like  this 
always  forms  a  part  of  Mathews's  dramatis  personcs.  Various  other 
characters  are  introduced  in  the  course  of  the  adventures,  which  include 
a  journey  to  town  in  one  of  the  "  short  stages,"  the  various  interruptions 
in  which,  with  the  agony  of  an  inside  passenger,  who  has  an  engage- 
ment (military  time)  to  dinner,  are  described  with  great  humour.     A 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  S29 

visit  to  the  Royal  Exchange,  given  with  great  spirit;  a  scene  at  the 
Auction  Mart ;  a  visit  to  the  Royal  Academy ;  and  the  mysteries,  in 
full  description,  of  the  Epping  Hunt.  One  of  the  best  occasional  de- 
lineations of  character  is  that  of  Joe  Hatch,  a  waterman,  who  is  also 
termed  the  Thaines  Chancellor  and  Boat  Barrister,  a  fellow  (we  presume 
a  real  portrait,  though  we  have  not  the  good  fortune  to  know  the 
original)  who  lays  down  the  law  of  his  craft,  promotes  and  allays 
quarrels,  and  gratifies  his  fare  with  a  "  long  tough  yarn  "  of  his  own 
adventures.  A  Mr.  Aspinall,  who  is  in  constant  dread  of  thieves,  and 
who  sends  out  his  servants  to  any  suspicious  fellow  he  sees,  with  a 
supplj'of  money  or  clothing,  to  prevent  his  being  robbed  and  murdered, 
is  humorously  drawn.  Several  songs  are  interspersed  in  Mr.  Mathews's 
best  style  of  humour.  The  entertainment  winds  up  with  a  monopoly- 
logUe,  called  "  Mathews's  Dream ;  or,  the  Theatrical  Gallery  ;"  in  the 
course  of  which  he  introduces  imitations  of  Suett,  Kemble,  King,  Cooke, 
Incledon,  and  other  eminent  performers  now  no  more. 

Mathews's  Theatrical  Gallery  has  been  a  "  palpable  hit."  He  has 
never  done  anything  more  ably ;  it  is  food  for  every  mouth,  and  is  at 
once  the  most  agreeable  and  most  finished  mode  of  conveying  a  personal 
imitation.  Mr.  Mathews  has  herein  a  double  gratification ;  for,  in 
eliciting  the  unbounded  applause  which  his  performance  does,  he  is  only 
receiving,  in  a  multiplied  degree,  the  admiration  of  those  numerous 
visitors  to  the  "  Real  Simon  Pure  "  at  Kentish  Town,  his  own  residence, 
in  which  his  genius,  industry,  and  property  have  erected  a  monument  to 
their  owner's  character,  that  will  render  it  illustrious  for  ever  and  ever. 
We  cannot  imagine  a  more  gratifying  circumstance  to  any  man,  than 
the  homage  which  is  nightly  paid  to  Mr.  Mathews  in  this  Monopoly- 
logue ;  and  it  must  be  an  earnest  to  him,  that,  highly  as  his  abilities 
are  rated  by  every  one  who  saw  him,  it  is  an  admiration  inferior,  if 
possible,  to  that  which  is  bestowed  on  the  consequence  and  respectability 
which  his  taste  has  thrown  around  his  profession. 

During  my  husband's  absence  from  town,  Mr.  Price  reiterated 
liis  earnest  desire  to  engage  him  at  Drury-lane  this  season,  in  a 
letter  addressed  to  Mr.  Mathews's  confidential  friend  and  adviser 
upon  all  important  business,  and  requesting  his  influence  in 
favour  of  such  an  arrangement.  This  apphcation  led  the  way 
to  a  serious  negotiation  between  the  parties,  the  result  of 
which  will  hereafter  appear. 

To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Brighton,  26th  July,  1827. 

I  send  a  journal.  Wednesday  morning,  rose  at  half-past  eight; 
started  at  half-past  nine  ;  wind  west,  with  breezes,  cloudy  and  threaten- 
ing. Arrived  at  Croydon  at  eleven;  at  halt^past,  slight  rain.  Red 
Hill ;  baited  my  horse,  but  fasted  my&elf.     Read  Napoleon  j  counted 


330  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

six  Brighton  coaches  in  the  hour  I  remained  there.  Arrived  at  Crawley, 
half-past  three ;  received  by  David,  a  hurdy-gurdy  organ,  and  Pan- 
pipes, French  itinerants,  who  played  under  my  window  all  dinner-time, 
annoying  me  very  much,  for  which  I  gave  them  sixpence.  Bad  dinner ; 
three  mutton  chops  totally  spoiled — fried  and  over-done — dirty  young 
potatoes.  Started  at  half-past  five.  T-ee-d  at  Hickstead,  and  arrived 
at  half-past  nine  at  Brighton.  Here  I  am,  at  the  "old  Villain's." 
Went  into  a  warm  bath ;  and  after  listening  to  the  prattle  of  Russell 
for  two  hours,  went  to  bed ;  rose  at  eleven ;  rehearsed  my  song. 

I  was  quite  delighted  with  "  The  Rendezvous,"  which  is  a  real  good 
piece,  quite  French,  and  very  well  put  together  for  our  stage,  and, 
moreover,  very  well  acted.  I  had  a  capital  front  seat  on  a  chair  in  the 
iront  boxes,  which  I  enjoyed  all  in  my  way  till  the  end  of  "  The  Rendez- 
vous," when  Mrs.  Elliot  spied  me,  and  beckoned  me  to  her  side  box ; 
where  I  saw  the  last  piece  not  in  my  way,  for  she  talked  to  me  all  the 
time. 

C.  Mathews. 

Mr.  Mathews  used  to  remark,  that  odd  characters  seemed 
placed  purposely  in  his  way,  that  he  might  pick  them  up.  It  is 
certain  that  he  saw  more  oddities  than  most  people.  Whether 
this  arose  from  a  fine  mental  perception  of  peculiarities,  or  an 
aptness  to  describe  what  other  eyes  either  altogether  overlooked, 
or  thought  not  of  describing ;  or,  whether  he  was,  as  he  said, 
favoured  in  such  opportunities,  it  is  certain  that  he  constantly 
found  something  to  add  to  his  rich  stores  of  character. 

Being  engaged  to  a  late  dinner,  Mr.  Mathews,  in  compliance 
with  the  demand  of  his  appetite,  which  had  been  lately  accus- 
tomed to  an  earlier  hour,  had  ordered  a  mutton  chop  to  be 
brought  up  to  him  one  day,  at  the  Old  Ship.  As  he  was  waiting 
for  it,  a  "  gentleman "  was  announced  by  the  waiter,  who,  as 
usual  with  such  people,  seemed  delighted  at  showing  up  a 
nuisance, — and  immediately  made  his  appearance  in  the  room. 
He  was  a  perfect  stranger ;  and  had  the  sun  not  shone  brilliantly 
all  that  day,  or  had  my  husband  been  advertised  to  make  his 
bow  in  public  that  night,  woe  would  it  have  been  to  the  doughty 
stranger  who  now  addressed  him  with  impunity.  He  was  a  little, 
fat,  red-faced  man,  of  respectable  appearance,  with  his  head 
frosted  over  with  pomatum  and  powder,  like  a  twelfth-cake. 
"  Jfr.  Mathus,  I  presume  ?  "  asked  the  little  gentleman,  with  his 
hat  in  his  hand,  at  the  same  time  making  a  low  bow. — "  Yes, 
Sir,"  mildly  answered  my  husband ;  "  what  is  your  pleasure  with 
me  ?  " — "  Why,  Sir,"  chuckled  the  good-humoured  intruder,  as 
he  stood  gazing  somewhat  in  the  fashion  of  a  sight-seer  who 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  S31 

has  paid  for  such  privilege;  "why,  Sir — a — a — I  have  taken, 
perhaps,  a  great  Hberty,  which  I  beg  you'll  excuse.  The  fact  is 
— a — a — I  never  go  to  a  playhouse  ;  but — a — rally — a — a — I 
have  heard  much  of  you ;  and  I  have  even  read  much  about  you, 
Sir.  It  is  said  that  you  are  an  uncommon  character.  I  am 
going  away  this  afternoon ;  and,  hearing  that  you  were  in 
Brighton,  raily  I  could  not  resist  the  opportoonity  of  finding 
you  out  before  my  departur,  being  anxious — a — a — a — to  see 
how  you  presented  yourself  to  the  eye !  " 

As  I  have  said,  Mr.  Mathews  was  in  a  favourable  state  of 
spirits,  and,  moreover,  was  amused  at  the  novelty  of  the  style  of 
this  raily  simple  and  inoffensive  person.  He  therefore  deter- 
mined to  humour  his  visitor,  and  accordingly  said,  in  answer  to 
his  droll  address — 

"  Well,  Sir ;  I  hope  my  appearance  is  satisfactory  ?'* 

"Truly so,"  replied  the  little  plump  man,  as  he  measured  him 
with  his  eye ;  "  1  look  upon  it.  Sir,  that  you  have  had  more 
whimsical  adventurs  and  odd  things  happen  to  you  than  ever 
occurred  to  any  other  man  ?  " 

"Why,  yes,  Sir,"  said  Mr.  Mathews,  "odd  things  do  some- 
times occur,  as  you  say.  Sir." 

At  this  moment  the  waiter  entered  with  the  tray ;  when  Mr. 
Mathews  invited  the  stranger  to  sit  down,  adding,  "  As  you 
have  come  to  see  a  strange  animal,  it  is  lucky  you  have  found 
him  at  feeding-time  ;  will  you  partake  ?  " 

"By no  means,"  bowed  the  little  portly  gentleman.  "  Sir,  I 
will  no  longer  intrude ;  for  raily,  Mr.  Mathns,  I  have  taken  a 
freedom ;  but  I  could  not  resist  the  opportoonity  that  offered ; 
and  all  I  have  to  say  is,  that  I  have  been  very  much  grati- 
fied by  your  benign  and  generous  reception.  Sir,  your  very 
obedient." 

Thus  saying,  the  little  corpulent  stranger  bowed  and  backed 
himself  out  of  the  room,  with  much  gravity  and  apparent  satis- 
faction. 

About  the  end  of  August,  Mr.  Price  prevailed  upon  my  hus- 
band to  accept  the  long-proffered  engagement,  for  the  beginning 
of  next  year,  at  Drury-lane  Theatre.  I  say  prevailed,  because 
the  terms  offered  were,  I  may  say,  of  so  extravagantly  liberal  a 
nature,  that  Mr.  Mathews,  with  his  characteristic  modesty  and 
conscientious  consideratiou  for  others,  conceived  it  impossible 
that  such  an  engagement  could  be  reciprocally  beneficial  to 
manager  and  actor.     On  the  other  side,  in  resigning  his  "  At 


S32  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

Home  "  season,  the  sacrifice  required  great  compensation  in  any 
other  undertaking ;  and  he  was  unwilling  to  risk  either  a  severe 
loss  to  himself,  by  accepting  moderate  terms  from  Mr.  Price,  or 
a  similar  disadvantage  to  so  generous  a  person,  by  consenting  to 
the  splendid  offer  so  urgently  pressed  upon  him.  However,  Mr. 
Price  at  last  prevailed;  and  I  believe  Mr.  Mathews's  nightly 
salary  exceeded  any  that  had  then  been  given  to  a  comic 
performer. 

After  this  engagement  was  finally  arranged,  my  husband  was 
often  depressed  at  the  possibility  of  his  friend  having  made  a 
bad  bargain,  and  as  often  declared  his  own  conviction  that  they 
would  be  mutually  harassed  and  disappointed.  "For,"  he 
would  say  to  me,  "  if  I  don't  brhig  the  money,  how  can  I  think 
of  taking  such  sums  out  of  Price's  pocket  ?  It's  out  of  the 
question.  However,  he's  an  obstinate  fellow,  and  I  could  not 
refuse  him ;  but  we  shall  both  be  losers."  Mr.  Price,  notwith- 
standing, proved  himself,  as  in  his  general  conduct,  not  pnly  a 
liberal  man,  but  one  of  consummate  judgment,  as  the  result  will 
show  in  the  present  case. 

To  Barron  Field,  Esq.* 

Oct.  4tli,  1827. 

I  am  not  in  humour  to  return  a  fit  reply  to  your  pleasant  letter.  We 
are  fairly  housed  at  Enfield,  and  an  angel  shall  not  persuade  me  to 
wicked  London  again.  We  have  now  six  sabbath  days  in  a  week  for — 
none !  The  change  has  worked  on  my  sister's  mind,  to  make  her  ill ; 
and  I  must  wait  a  tedious  time  before  we  can  hope  to  enjoy  this  place 
in  unison.  Enjoy  it,  when  she  recovers,  I  know  we  shall.  I  see  no 
shadow,  but  in  her  illness,  for  repenting  the  step !  For  Mathews — I 
know  my  own  utter  unfitness  for  such  a  task.f  I  am  no  hand  at 
describing  costumes,  a  great  requisite  in  an  account  of  mannered  pic- 
tures. I  have  not  the  slightest  acquaintance  with  pi(;torial  language 
even.  An  imitator  of  me,  or  rather  pretender  to  be  me,  in  his  Rejected 
Addresses,  has  made  me  minute!}'  describe  the  dresses  of  the  poissardes 
at  Calais  ! — I  could  as  soon  resolve  Euclid.*  I  have  no  eye  for  forms 
and  fashions.  I  substitute  analysis,  and  get  rid  of  the  phenomenon  by 
slurring  in  for  its  impression.  I  am  sure  you  must  have  observed  this 
defect,  or  peculiarity,  in  my  writings  ;  else  the  delight  would  be  incal- 
culable in  doing  such  a  thing  for  Mathews,  whom  1  greatly  like — and 
Mrs.  Mathews,  whom  I  almost  greatlier  like.  What  a  feast  'twould  be 
to  be  sitting  at  the  pictures  painting  'em  into  words ;  but  I  could  almost 

*  A  very  early  and  much -regarded  friend  of  ours. 
+  Mr.  Lamb  Lad  been  asked  for  a  catalogue  of  the  gallery  of  our  friend, 
who  justly  believed  he  would  write  charmingly  upon  the  subject,  as  he  after- 
wards proved  he  could. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  833 

as  soon  make  words  into  pictures.  I  speak  this  deliberately,  and  not 
out  of  modesty.     I  pretty  well  know  what  I  can't  do. 

My  sister's  verses  are  homely,  but  just  what  they  should  be  ;  I  send 
them,  not  for  the  poetry,  but  the  good  sense  and  good  will  of  them.  I 
was  beginning  to  transcribe ;  but  Emma  is  sadly  jealous  of  its  getting 
into  more  hands,  and  I  won't  spoil  it  in  her  eyes  by  divulging  it. 
Come  to  Enfield  and  read  it.  As  my  poor  cousin,  the  bookbinder,  now 
with  God,  told  me,  most  sentimentally,  that  having  purchased  a  picture 
of  fish  at  a  dead  man's  sale,  his  heart  ached  to  see  how  the  widow 
grieved  to  part  with  it,  being  her  dear  husband's  favourite ;  and  he 
almost  apologized  for  his  generosity  by  saying  he  could  not  help  telling 
the  widow  she  was  "  welcome  to  come  and  look  at  it" — e.g.,  at  his 
house — "  as  often  as  she  pleased."  There  was  the  germ  of  generosity 
in  an  uneducated  mind.  He  had  just  reading  enough  from  the  backs 
of  books  for  the  "  nee  sinit  esse  feros' — had  he  read  inside,  the  same 
impulse  would  have  led  him  to  give  back  the  two-guinea  thing — with 
a  request  to  see  it,  now  and  then,  at  her  house.  We  are  parroted  into 
delicacy. — Thus  you  have  a  tale  for  a  Sonnet. 

Adieu  !  with  (imagine  both)  our  loves.  C.  Lamb. 

On  the  last  night  of  this  year  (1827),  Mr.  Mathews  made 
his  appearance  at  Drury-lane  Theatre  in  the  characters  of  Sir 
Fretful  Plagiary  in  "  The  Critic,"  and  Bushin  in  "  Killing  no 
Murder."  The  whole  of  the  day,  I  remember,  he  was  exceed- 
ingly depressed,  and  no  assurances  could  give  him  confidence 
against  his  inward  conviction  that  the  engagement  would  be  a 
failure  as  to  attraction.  "  How  could  it  be  otherwise  ?  "  he 
would  reason :  "  Two  old  and  hackneyed  pieces — novelty  might 
have  done  something,"  &c.  I  confess  I  also  had  my  misgivings ; 
and  at  one  moment  had  settled  not  to  go  to  a  box  reserved  for 
me ;  but  my  fears  were  overruled  by  a  judicious  friend,  who 
accompanied  me  to  the  theatre. 

On  our  arrival  we  were  met  by  crowds  coming  out  from  the 
several  doors.  What  could  this  mean  ?  what  had  happened  ? 
(for  the  truth  never  occurred  to  me.)  My  questions  were 
speedily  answered  by  our  entrance  into  the  lobby,  where  a  scene 
of  confusion  presented  itself,  from  a  press  for  places  by  those 
who  had  improvidently  trusted  to  the  average  of  unlet  boxes, 
and  the  anxiety  of  others  to  get  admission  to  those  which  they 
had  secured.  In  short,  when  we  were  seated,  and  commanded  a 
view  of  the  house,  we  found  it  crammed  in  every  part ! 

The  result  of  this  night's  performance  was  a  source  of  much 
comfort,  as  well  as  pride,  to  Mr.  Mathews,  although  such  houses 
could  not  be  expected  after  the  first  night.  Such  a  beginning, 
however,  augured  a  success  which  might  satisfy  all  Mr.  Price's 


834j  the  life  and  coerespondence  of 

calculations ;  but  again  and  again  the  theatre  was  filled  in  the 
same  manner,  and  the  same  performances  were  repeated,  with 
similar  effects,  successively  thirteen  nights. 

As  an  instance  of  candour  and  generosity,  generally  considered 
contrary  to  the  arcanum  of  management,  I  must  here  record  that, 
at  the  conclusion  of  only  part  of  the  term  of  the  engagement, 
Mr.  Price  informed  Mr.  Mathews  that  he  had  then  cleared  the 
whole  amount  of  his  engagement,  with  a  considerable  profit 
upon  it. 

Most  satisfactory  was  this  result.  Indeed,  it  was  altogether 
creditable  to  the  feelings  of  both  actor  and  manager. 


IMTffif^ 


Loudon ;  Roatledge .  Wame.  &  Roiitledge 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  335 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 


Mr.  Mathews  takes  a  share  in  the  Adelphi  Theatre  with  Mr.  Yates — Per- 
formances at  Brighton  with  Mr.  Yates — Anecdote  of  Mr.  Listen — Letters 
to  Mrs.  Mathews:  Berkeley  Castle:  Performances  at  Cheltenham — Mr. 
Mathews's  dinner  miseries — Letters  to  Mrs.  Mathews — Letter  from  Mr.  C.J. 
Mathews  to  Mrs.  Mathews :  Journal  of  a  residence  in  Italy. 

I  SHALL  not  enter  into  the  particulars  of  an  event  which  was 
decided  upon  at  this  period,  but  leave  my  husband's  succeeding 
letter  to  explain  it  to  the  reader. 

To  Henry  B,  Gyles,  Esq. 

Kentish  Town,  June  17th,  1828. 

Dear  Gyllt, — I  am  delighted  indeed  to  hear  you  say  you  are 
settled,  and  sincerely  hope  that  you  may  be  in  the  same  mind  two  years 
hence.  I  had  acted  OldsMrt  on  Saturday  night,  and,  coming  home, 
found  your  letter  with  the  quotations.  Ha !  ha  !  droll  enough  !  Now 
you  will  be  astonished !  Prepare  for  wonder !  You  are  the  first,  too ; 
nobody  knows  it  yet  but  four  on  earth.  Don't  look  over  leaf — don't 
mention  it,  now.  Will  you  believe  it  ?  You  won't.  Well,  then,  I 
have  taken — no,  not  taken — but  it's  all  as  good  as  done ;  that  is,  I 
shall  have  it — but  nothing  settled  yet — that  is,  not  signed — but  it's  all 
right !  I  know  you  will  stare  more  than  you  have  made  me  stare.  I 
am  about  to  commence  manager  ! — I  am  to  have  the  Adelphi  with 
Yates !  Ha !  stare  !  do  !  and  say,  when  he,  that  has  so  sworn !  Yes, 
he 1  cannot  enter  into  particulars,  but  you  must  think. 

I  will  come  and  see  you — I  will.  I  have  a  friend  at  Wooton,  who 
has  asked  me.  I  have  often  promised  Colonel  Berkeley,  who  reminded 
me  last  Saturday  of  it,  &c.     I  will  come — indeed  I  will,  this  summer. 

My  wife's  love  to  your  wife. 

Ever  thine,        Mat. 

Pre-eminently  successful  and  lucrative  as  Mr.  Mathews's  en- 
gagement at  Drury-lane  had  proved,  the  size  of  the  stage  made 
acting  a  serious  suffering  to  him  ;  his  lameness  having  increased  ex- 
cessively, and  in  proportion  to  the  frequency  of  performing  upon  it. 
Mr.  Price  offered  him  a  renewal  of  his  late  engagement  for  the 


836  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

following  season,  on  the  same  liberal  terms ;  but  his  share  in  the 
Adelphi  offering  another  source  of  gain,  with  less  exertion,  and 
with  less  bodily  pain,  from  the  contracted  sphere  of  action,  he 
was  induced  to  refuse  Mr.  Price  his  future  co-operation.  When 
all  arrangements  were  complete  regarding  the  new  partnership, 
Mr.  Yates  and  mj  husband  set  forth  together  on  a  tour,  com- 
bining their  forces  for  their  mutual  profit. 

During  one  of  these  performances  at  Brighton,  .while  Mr. 
Mathews  was  singing  that  part  of  his  "Auction  Song,"  where 
he  solicits  biddings  for  a  particular  "lot,"  after  looking  round 
the  house,  and  making  several  appeals,  and  exclaiming  "  Only 
three  pounds  offered — only  three,"  a  voice  from  one  of  the 
public  boxes,  which  it  was  impossible  to  mistake,  cried  out 
"Four!"  He  turned  to  the  spot,  to  which  every  other  eye 
also  was  directed.  Though  taken  by  surprise,  he  was  not,  how- 
ever, thrown  off  his  guard,  but  bowing  smartly  ct  la  Rohins, 
exclaimed,  "Much  obhged;  yours.  Sir."  This  bidding  was 
made  by  Mr.  Liston,  who  was  seized,  as  he  afterwards  declared, 
with  an  irresistible  desire  to  put  up  for  a  lot,  in  order  to  surprise 
his  brother  actor,  and  was  confounded  after  he  had  done  it,  and 
heard  the  roar  of  laughter  he  had  caused,  and  the  notice  he  had 
drawn  upon  himself. 

To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Cheltenham,  27th  July,  1828. 

Arrived  here  to  dinner,  and  went  to  the  play,  where  we  saw  the  dis- 
tinguished amateurs  in  Henry  IV.  The  Colonel  in  the  Prince,  the 
Captain  in  Falstaff,  and  C.  Kemble  in  Sotspur.  'Pen  ray  word,  very 
well ;  very  well  indeed — for  gentlemen.     The  Colonel  really  good. 

We  are  going  off  to-day  to  Berkeley  Castle,  to  dine.  I  am  beau- 
tifully well. 

Chaeles  Mathews. 

A  promise  of  a  plain  dinner  was  always  a  temptation  to  him  ; 
because,  being  divested  of  the  usual  routine  of  dishes,  it  would 
bring  him  quickly  to  his  great  treat  of  the  day,  namely,  the 
first  pinch  of  snuff,  which  he  never  indulged  in  until  the  cheese 
was  removed.  Porter  was  a  beverage  for  which  he  felt  a  positive 
disgust ;  and  it  was  a  favourite  joke  of  Mr.  Liston's,  whenever 
they  dined  together  at  any  house  where  they  had  not  been  in 
the  habit  of  visiting,  to  whisper  the  servants  at  different  periods 
of  the  dinner,  not  only  to  hand  him  various  side-dishes  repeatedly, 
but  to  present  him  with  well-frothed  glasses  of  porter  or  ale ; 
and  the  contriver  so  timed  these  offerings,  that  the  supplies  were 
^ure  to  reach  him  in  the  midst  of  some  remarks  he  was  making, 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  337 

or  to  the  interruption  of  something  interesting  or  amusing  that 
he  was  relating  or  listening  to.  It  was  laughable  to  see  the 
gradual  surprise  and  embarrassment,  and  ultimate  impatience,  of 
the  persecuted  person  at  such  repeated  annoyance,  until  his  eye 
caught  that  of  his  funny  tormentor.  He  then  understood  the 
cause  of  such  unwelcome  attentions,  and  his  annoyance  ceased, 
as  it  always  did  at  the  detection  of  any  fun  in  his  "little 
brother,"  as  he,  on  such  occasions,  called  Mr.  Liston;  whose 
high  spirits,  contrasted  with  his  generally  pensive  habit  of  mind, 
were  as  exuberant  as  those  of  a  boy,  when  "i'  the  vein,"  and 
irresistible  as  his  most  successful  comedy  in  public. 

To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Ross,  Sunday,  September  2nd,  1828. 

To  any  person  who  had  not  such  a  son  as  we  have  I  should  attempt 
a  description  of  my  rapturous  delight,  last'  night,  at  the  receipt  of  that 
most  welcome  frank.  If  I  had  not  been  allowed  to  open  it  until  to-day, 
I  should  have  been  satisfied  that  all  was  right.  The  Hereford  folks 
benefited  by  it ;  it  put  me  into  tip-top  spirits.  The  first  two  persons  I 
saw  were  Rolls  and  son  !  This  is  a  sweet  place.  We  only  want  you 
here  to  make  us  complete.  The  boat  is  announced  to  take  us  an 
excursion  on  the  Wye ;  so  be  content  with  hearing  all  is  well.  Our 
receipts  since  Tuesday,  the  21st,  have  been  200/.  clear. 

The  fairy-glass  in  Charles's  letter  is  more  than  beautiful — it  is 
exquisite !  and  if  anything  were  wanting  to  make  our  love  for  him 
complete,  this  must  rivet  it. 

C.  Mathews. 

The  letter  above  alluded  to,  one  of  a  long  series  equally 
interesting,  I  shall  stand  excused  for  inserting.  Mr.  Coleridge 
happening  to  be  with  me  when  this  letter  arrived,  I  read  it  to 
him,  and  he  was  so  pleased  that  he  begged  me  to  lend  it  to  him 
shortly  after,  with  other  letters  previously  seen  on  the  same 
subject,  as  he  fancied  he  could  write  a  poem  from  them,  and 
should  like  to  try.  In  a  few  days  he  returned  the  letters,  with 
a  note  from  himself,  of  which  a  mother  may  be  pardoned  for 
being  proud. 

To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Dear  Mes.  Mathews, — It  would  be  profanation  even  to  alter  the 
position  of  a  word  in  your  dear  son's  sweet  letter  in  the  same  language, 
much  more  to  hazard  such  substitutes  as  rhyme  and  verse  might 
require.  But  even  the  genius  of  a  Byron  could  not  be  better  employed 
than  in  translating  them  into  a  Greek  poem.  They  are  poetry  of  the 
best  kind — imagination — the  power  of  picturesque  arrangement  and 

z 


338  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

playful  will  in  the  service  of  a  pure,  most  affectionate  heart.     From  my 
own  very  heart  I  congratulate  you  on  such  a  son, 

S.  T.  Coleridge  * 


To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Peroi,  July  13th,  1828. 

My  dearest  Mother, — By  a  turn  of  fate,  I  am  enjoying  myself 
mightily.  Two  days  after  my  last  letter,  I  went  on  a  little  trip  on 
horseback  with  the  lawyer  of  Pola,  a  young  German,  to  visit  the 
neighbouring  villages,  and  I  had  a  most  delightful  day.  From  Polaf 
we  went  to  the  Isle  of  Olives,  not  very  far  distant,  where  we  found  the 
Sclavonian  peasants  celebrating  a  festival ;  and,  after  taking  our  share 
in  the  dancing  and  merriment  for  a  couple  of  hours,  we  continued  our 
journey  to  Dignano,  a  little  village,  only  celebrated  from  the  remarkable 
dress  of  the  peasants.  I  was  very  m.uch  pleased  with  them.  The 
women  (amongst  whom  were  some  very  pretty  girls)  were  dressed 
exactly  in  the  style  of  the  Venetian  ladies  of  old,  as  we  see  thera  in 
Canal etti's  pictures,  and  had  a  most  surprising  effect  as  they  stood  in 
groups  about  the  town.  My  new-found  friend,  seeing  me  so  much 
delighted  with  these  costumes,  proposed  extending  our  ride  to  Peroi, 
another  small  village,  five  miles  distant,  and  one  of  the  wonders  of 
Istria;  being  a  small  colony  of  Greeks  (consisting  of  about  sixty 
families,  all  peasants)  which  preserves  its  original  language  in  the  midst 
of  Italians,  Istrians,  and  Sclavonians.  I  jumped  at  the  proposal,  and 
w^as  amply  repaid  for  my  trouble.  I  never  met  with  anything  so 
elegant  and  so  picturesque  as  these  people :  all  the  girls  very  handsome, 
particularly  tall  and  well  made,  and  the  men  equally  so.  Their  faces 
are  strictly  Greek,  and  their  dress  quite  superb. 

I  had  scarcely  entered  the  place  when  I  determined  upon  removing 
there  next  day,  it  being  only  seven  miles  from  Pola ;  and  accordingly, 
picking  out  the  prettiest  house,  and  that  which  contained  the  prettiest 
girls,  I  told  thera  my  intentions,  and  gave  them  reason  to  expect  me. 
It  happened  that  this  family  was  related  to  my  landlord,  Cronopoli,  at 
Pola,  who  was  also  a  Greek,  which  gave  me  great  facility  in  obtaining 
this  favour  ;  for  it  is  considered  a  great  favour,  and  one  never  granted 
to  strangers,  to  take  up  their  abode  amongst  them. 

The  day  before  yesterday  I  arrived,  with  all  my  drawing  materials, 
clothes,  &c,  and  here  I  am  established.  On  my  arrival,  I  explained 
that  I  came  to  be  one  of  the  family,  and  not  to  be  treated  as  a  gentle- 
man ;  and  accordingly  I  proceeded  with  them  to  the  fields  to  help  the 
cutting  of  the  barley ;  and,  to  their  great  delight,  dressed  myself  in 
their  costume,  which  I  did  to  my  own  great  delight  also.  In  short,  I 
found  myself  once  more,  as  among  the  Neapolitan  peasantry,  happy 

*  In  the  course  of  Mr.  Coleridge's  correspondence,  published  soon  after  his 
death,  he  mentions  these  letters  to  a  friend  with  high  encomium, 
t  In  Istria. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  339 

amidst  the  innocent  simplicity  and  real  enjoyments  of  unsophisticated 
nature.  The  perfect  pleasure  I  felt  while  dancing,  singing,  and  playing 
the  guitar  to  these  beautiful  Greek  girls  I  cannot  tell  you,  enhanced  by 
the  feeling  that  I  had  already  usurped  a  small  nook  in  their  hearts  by 
having  thus  accommodated  myself  to  their  manners.  It  was  quite 
charming  to  see  them  gradually  throwing  off  the  reserve  of  the  first 
day,  and  beginning  to  regard  me  as  one  of  the  family.  The  pride  they 
had  in  dressing  me,  and  taking  me  about  with  them,  was  great.  I  had 
good  cause  to  wear  out  my  legs  in  dancing  with  them  on  the  rough 
stones  of  the  village,  for  one  after  another  engaged  with  me  till  I  had 
gone  through  the  whole  string.  I  then  made  a  sketch  of  one  of  them, 
who  had  been  married  about  a  month,  in  her  bridal  dress,  a  copy  of 
which  I  gave  her. 

I  am  up  and  out  with  them  in  the  fields,  partaking  of  their  food  as 
well  as  of  their  pursuits ;  the  acme  of  which  consists  in  a  couple  of 
hard  eggs  and  a  bit  of  brown  bread  ;  not  being  quite  able  to  accommodate 
my  stomach  to  their  more  ordinary  fare  of  bread  cooked  in  oil  and 
vinegar,  and  dreadfully  fat  bacon.  Fancy  me  at  this  moment  writing 
to  you,  dressed  in  a  white  sort  of  body  and  petticoat,  richly  worked  in 
red,  blue,  and  yellow  silk ;  an  embroidered  handkerchief  on  my  head, 
and  red  stockings,  bound  with  red  sashes  up  to  the  knee,  and  sheepskin 
sandals.     I  wish  Lewis  were  here  to  make  you  a  sketch  of  me. 

Peroi  is  a  little  paradise.  I  begin  quite  to  love  the  people,  and  fancy 
myself  one  of  them.  I  am  called  by  them  all  "  Sukey  !"  Is  not  that 
a  sweet  name  ?  As  spelt  and  pronounced  in  England  it  is  anything 
but  enchanting ;  but  in  Greek,  as  every  schoolboy  will  tell  you,  it  means 
"  my  soul,"  and  is  a  term  of  the  greatest  affection. 

What  would  I  not  give  if  you  could  possess,  through  the  means  of 
some  beneficent  fairy,  the  glass  that  I  have  read  of  in  some  child's 
book,  in  which  the  possessor  could  behold,  at  every  moment  of  the  day, 
the  absent  person,  and  contemplate  his  occupations  and  situations.  The 
first  thing  in  the  morning  you  would  look  in  the  glass  (as  you  no  doubt 
do  as  it  is),  and,  instead  of  beholding  yourself  in  a  laced  nightcap,  with 
sky-blue  bandeau,  you  would  see  me  (but  you  must  get  up  at  three 
o'clock  to  do  so)  sitting  on  a  stone  bench,  surrounded  by  half-a-dozen 
pretty  innocent  girls ;  the  one  adjusting  my  head  and  tying  on  my 
worked  handkerchief;  another  lacing  my  sandals,  and  all  occupied  in 
the  decoration  of  their  new-found  toy.  Near  me  you  would  see  others, 
with  their  beautiful  black  hair  hanging  down  to  their  waists,  and 
undergoing  the  operation  of  plaiting,  till  it  takes  the  most  beautiful 
classic  form  that  can  be  desired.  Here  and  there,  at  intervals,  ar© 
three  or  four  fine  tall  lads,  with  ample  mustachios,  trotting  to  the  fields  ' 
on  horseback,  with  large  trusses  of  straw  before  them,  and  saddle-bags 
hanging  on  each  side,  displaying,  in  their  capacious,  gaping  mouths 
(not  the  lads,  but  the  saddle-bags),  the  store  of  brown-bread  and  wine- 
kegs  for  their  banquet ;  and  a  young  foal  ambling  after  her  aged  mother, 
and  now  and  then  seizing  her  by  her  swishy  tail,  and  kicking  from  pure 
fun  and  frolic.  Then  will  pass  by  a  little,  brown,  bare-legged  boy,  with  a 

z2 


24iO  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONDENCE   OF 

large  flock  of  sheep,  with  here  and  there  a  reverend  old  ram,  decorated 
with  bells  and  red  ribbons  ;  a  most  picturesque  group,  making  dust 
enough  to  smother  the  whole  village.  ^ 

You  will  gaze  for  a  moment  in  admiration  at  the  beauty  of  the  lad ; 
his  fine  Greek  face  and  large  intelligent  eyes,  dressed  only  in  a  sheep- 
skin, thrown  most  gracefully  over  him,  and  confined  with  a  crimson 
sash ;  a  pair  of  sandals  and  a  slouched  hat  defending  his  two  extremities, 
and  a  double  pipe  of  rude  form  resounding  through  the  woods  as  he 
saunters  after  his  family.  A  short  time  after,  you  will  see  the  whole 
village  in  motion — girls,  boys,  old  men,  and  old  women,  and  myself  in 
the  midst  of  the  throng,  moving  forward  in  procession;  some  with 
pitchers  on  their  heads,  some  with  baskets  in  their  hands,  to  begin  the 
labour  of  the  day.  You  will  hear,  if  your  ears  are  good  enough,  the 
choruses  of  villagers,  very  different  from  the  c<Mnpositions  of  Bishop, 
arranged  most  harmoniously  by  themselves,  and  sung  most  correctly  in 
parts ;  the  melody  some  day  you  will  hear  imitated  by  me,  as  copied 
exactly  from  themselves.  During  the  interval  of  these  choruses  you 
will  probably — but  you  must  listen  well — hear  a  solo,  though  of  some- 
what a  more  sprightly  character,  and  in  a  more  comprehensible  lan- 
guage, in  a  voice  not  imfamiliar  to  you ;  and  at  the  same  time  you  will 
observe  the  pleasure  without  humbug,  and  the  approbation  without 
flattery,  expressed  upon  the  smiling  countenances  of  the  rest  of  the 
party.  An  hour  or  two  afterwards  you,  perhaps,  will  take  up  the  glass 
again — fancy  it  a  looking-glass,  and  so  you  can  resume  the  scrutiny 
many  times  through  the  day  without  much  effort — and  you  will  see  the 
party  dispersed  in  various  groups  over  the  landscape,  and  under  the 
shade  of  some  old  trees  you  will  see  me  lying,  with  a  book  in  my  hand, 
most  probably  a  Byron  or  a  Moore,  in  the  character  of  an  Arcadian, 
casting  occasional  affectionate  looks  towards  my  darling  peasants  at 
their  work,  and  now  and  then  joined  by  a  girl  or  two  from  amongst 
them,  who  will  sit  by  my  side,  and  pretend  to  read  my  book  with  me, 
till  called  by  the  rest  to  their  work  again;  and  sometimes  you  will  see  them 
depart — don't  be  scandalised — with  their  cheeks  slightly  coloured,  lest 
their  companions  should  have  observed  the  chaste  salute  as  freely  received 
as  given.  Then,  by  about  the  time  my  father's  step  announces  his 
approach  to  the  breakfast-room,  while  waiting  for  the  arrival  of  his 
smoking  steak,  take  a  glance  at  me,  sitting  as  one  of  my  smiling  circle, 
with  a  hard  egg  in  each  hand,  a  small  loaf  of  whiter  bread  than  the 
rest  (baked  on  purpose  for  me,  and  regarded  as  a  chef  d'oeuvre  in  its 
kind),  on  my  knees,  and  a  wooden  bowl  as  white  as  snow  before  me,  full 
of  wine  and  water,  to  afford  a  tolerably  easy  passage  to  my  frugal  fare, 
while  my  companions,  with  appetites  scarcely  credible,  dispose  of  bucket- 
ful after  bucketful  of  bread,  made  into  soup  by  the  addition  of  oil  and 
vinegar,  till  you  begin  to  doubt  whether  the  feast  is  performed  by 
elephants  or  peasants.  What  would  Sir  John  Carr  say  to  see  these 
girls  eat  ?  He  who  thinks  the  merrythought  of  a  pigeon  too  much  for 
a  woman,  would  stare  to  see  a  bucket  of  vinegar,  bread,  and  oil  disappear 
between  the  rosy  lips  that  he  had  just  been  kissing,  and  see  the  languish- 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  341 

ing  eyes  of  a  lovely  girl  throwing  aside  their  jetty  fringes  to  seek  the 
bottom  of  a  three-quart  pitcher,  which,  "  high  poised  in  air,"  travels 
from  mouth  to  mouth,  emptied  again  and  again  into  the  elephantine 
receptacles  of  these  tender  maidens,  and,  like  the  tower  of  Pisa,  threat- 
ening destruction  to  all  around  in  its  fall.  The  natural  consequence  of 
this  light  repast,  added  to  the  heat  of  an  Istrian  sun,  is  a  general  in- 
clination to  sleep,  the  girls  most  modestly  seeking  some  shady  spot  at  a 
distance  somewhat  remote  from  the  male  part  of  the  community.  Then, 
for  a  couple  of  hours,  you  may  put  down  your  glass,  while  we  give 
ourselves  up  to  sweet  slumbers ;  first,  however,  observing  me  enjoying 
my  privilege  as  the  pet  of  the  party,  of  lying  on  the  best  bit  of  green,  and 
pillowing  my  head  upon  whichever  lap  I  please :  a  privilege  which  even 
the  men  of  the  party  seemed  to  think  it  quite  right  I  should  enjoy. 

We'll  say  now  that  it  is  one  o'clock.  My  father  has  just  started  for 
town,  to  attend  an  eleven  o'clock  rehearsal  at  Drury,  and  you  have  just 
retired  to  your  little  boudoir  to  do  a  bit  of  "  reading  and  writing." 
Presently,  after  a  look  at  the  sketch  of  me  by  Lewis,  you  naturally  wish 
for  one  more  glance  at  your  fairy  glass,  and  see  me  quietly  seated,  alone, 
in  my  little  alcove  in  my  Greek  cottage,  returned  Irom  the  fields,  and 
occupied  with  my  pen  or  pencil. 

You  now  begin  to  think  the  whole  description  almost  too  romantic  to  be 
true.  You  see  a  Greek  gentleman,  in  a  most  picturesque  costume, 
sitting  on  a  settee,  under  an  elegant-shaped  arcade,  with  a  pipe  in  his 
mouth,  as  grave  as  can  be  desired,  occupied  in  serious  pursuits,  with  a 
beautiful  boy  of  five  years  old  standing  at  the  table,  with  a  little  white 
embroidered  tunic,  confined  by  a  crimson  sash,  a  pair  of  stockings 
something  like  those  of  Scotland,  half  way  up  his  little  legs,  a  pair  of 
white  sheep-skin  sandals,  and  a  scarlet  cap  with  a  feather  in  it,  carelessly 
cocked  on  his  little  head,  cutting  bits  of  paper  into  moons  and  stars, 
with  a  pair  of  English  scissors.  You  don't  know  which  to  look  at  : 
you  are  in  love  with  the  child,  and  yet  you  cannot  help  looking  at  the 
gentleman.  You  can't  be  deceived.  In  spite  of  the  dress,  the  musta- 
chios,  and  the  alcove, — iu  spite  of  the  smell  of  tobacco,  you  still 
discover  the  features  you  are  in  search  of  You  look  over  his  shoulder, 
and  you  see  a  letter  addressed  to  his  dearest  beloved  mother,  and  un- 
thinkingly print  a  kiss  upon  the  glass  which,  dimmed  by  the  attempt, 
hides  from  you  the  image  you  were  contemplating;  and,  as  the  steam 
which  bathed  it  gradually  clears  ofi"  again,  you  fancy  you  see  his  eyes 
wet  with  the  tears  of  true  affection,  which,  glistening  still  for  a  mo- 
ment, seem  to  indicate  his  grief  at  your  deception.  But  you  are  not 
deceived ;  for,  though  you  cannot  see  them,  believe  me,  the  tears  are  not 
a  few  which,  in  the  midst  of  all  his  enjoyments,  are  sweetly  shed  at 
the  thought  of  the  affectionate  regrets  which  are  ever  troubling  the 
bosom  of  his  mother.  He  sees  her  at  all  hours  of  the  day ;  he  sees  his 
father  soothing  her  sorrow  and  comforting  her  with  the  picture  of  their 
son's  happiness  and  well-doing,  and  reminding  her  of  the  unabating 
love  for  them  both  which  accompanies  him  wherever  he  may  be.  Though 
dressed  as  a  Greek,  his  heart  is  still  English  j  and  all  his  enjoyments 


342  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

in  this  enchanting  abode  are  in  reference  to  the  delight  of  talking  them 
over  in  his  own  darling  cottage,  calling  to  mind  the  warmth  of  a 
southern  sun  by  the  side  of  a  coal  fire,  and  finding  a  pleasure  most  ex- 
quisite in  transferring  the  kisses  of  his  Greek  girls  to  the  beloved  lips 
of  his  mother. 

But  I  have  passed  the  boundary  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  and  find 
myself  far  away  from  Peroi,  and  all  its  romance.  The  very  thought  of 
my  own  real  home  has  destroyed  in  a  moment  the  fairy  spell  of  my  en- 
chantment, and  my  marble  alcove  seems  to  want  a  covering  of  thatch 
and  a  weathercock  upon  it.  My  little  Spiridion  looks  up  in  my  face, 
as  if  he  observed  an  expression  upon  it  different  from  the  one  he  is 
accustomed  to,  and  for  a  moment  leaves  his  moons  and  stars,  as  if  to  be 
informed  of  the  cause.  Would  that  I  could  send  the  little  angel  flying 
to  you  with  my  letter,  and  with  the  power  of  conveying  on  his  sweet 
little  lips  a  portion  of  the  pleasure  in  description  that  he  and  I  enjoy 
together.  It  is  a  happiness  to  look  in  his  little  innocent  face  beaming 
with  affection  reflected  there  from  my  own, — not  from  my  little  innocent 
face,  but  from  the  fondness  which  it  manifestly  shows  towards  him.  I 
have  made  a  sketch  of  the  darling  pet,  which,  though  it  does  not  do 
him  justice,  will  convey  something  of  his  air. 

•  But  I  find  my  journal,  which  I  intended  to  have  served  for  a  week, 
has  not  even  completed  a  day.  My  subject  is  not  half  exhausted,  so 
that  your  glass  must  be  used  another  time  to  finish  the  picture.  I  will 
leave  you  now  for  a  while,  as  I  would  not  have  you  take  a  glass  too 
much ;  as  it  is,  I  fear  when  you  get  this  long  sheet,  and  have  to  pay 
its  increased  postage,  you  will  fancy  you  see  double,  though  I  hope  the 
pleasure  of  the  draught  will,  in  spite  of  the  consequences,  induce  you 
to  drink  again. 

With  love  to  my  dear,  dear  father,  ever  your  affectionate  son, 

C.  Mathews. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  343" 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

The  Adelphi  Theatre  opened  by  Messrs.  Mathews  and  Yates — Account  of  the 
performance — Mr.  Mathews  in  the  character  of  Caleb  Pipkin — Annoying 
inaccuracy — His  "first  real  illness" — His  love  of  eccentric  characters — 
Imputed  irritability  of  Mr.  Mathews — His  good  humour — Origin  of  the 
"school  orators" — An  importunate  beggar — Impromptu — Mr.  Mathews  and 
Mr.  Yates  "  At  Home"  at  the  Adelphi,  in  1829 — Programme  of  the  spring 
entertainment — Popularity  of  the  performance — Mr.  Mathews's  provincial 
tour  with  Mr.  Yates — Letters  to  Mrs.  Mathews  :  travelling  adventui-es ; 
a  fearful  accident ;  providential  escape ;  arrival  at  Exeter — Trip  to  Paris — 
Mr.  Mathews's  performance  there — Return  to  England — Engagement  of  the 
celebrated  elephant,  Mademoiselle  Djek. 

On  the  29th  of  September,  1828,  the  Adelphi  Theatre  was 
opened  under  the  new  partnership  of  Messrs.  Mathews  and  Yates 
to  a  very  elegant  audience  ;  Mr.  Mathews  acting  two  new  charac- 
ters, written  for  the  occasion.  The  introductory  piece  was  the 
production  of  Mr.  Beazley,  the  well-known  architect,  and  the 
other  was  by  Mr.  Buckstone,  the  popular  actor. 

The  following  account  of  this   first   night-  of  an  unusually 
successful  season  is  worth  preservation  here : — 

Messrs.  Mathews  and  Yates — (great  names,  or,  as  Pope  says,  "  un- 
spotted names,  and  memorable  lung,")  have  conjointly  undertaken  the 
management  of  this  delightful  little  theatre.  The  bill  of  fare  is  of  a 
very  attractive  character,  consisting  of  a  piece  entitled,  "  Wanted  a 
Partner"  and  a  laughable  trifle  under  the  name  of  *'  My  Absent  Son." 
The  first  explains  to  the  audience  the  circumstances  under  which  Messrs. 
Mathews  and  Yates  present  themselves  to  their  notice,  and  gives  the 
former  an  admirable  opportunity  of  putting  forth  some  of  his  ini- 
mitable power  of  mimicry.  Mr.  Yates,  it  seems,  left  with  the  whole 
theatre  on  his  own  hands,  wants  a  partner  in  the  concern,  who,  it  is 
stipulated,  is  to  be  no  actor.  Mathews  accordingly  presents  himself  in 
the  different  disguises  of  a  Scotchman,  a  man  of  fashion,  and  a  composer 
of  advertisements ;  and  at  last,  by  appearing  in  his  own  person,  etfects 
the  object  of  his  visit,  and  Yates  secures  a  partner.  There  is  much  fun 
about  this  piece,  particularly  in  Mathews's  imitation  of  Pellegrini,  which' 
is  the  closest  and  most. ludicrous  we  ever  saw.  The  last  piece,  as  we  said 
before,  is  laughable.    Early,  however,  in  the  representation,  two  or  three 


344  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

determined  Michaelmas  devotees  in  the  gallery  attacked  it ;  and,  though 
Mr.  Mathews,  acting  under  the  greatest  disadvantages,  as  all  will  admit 
who  knew  his  nervous  temperament,  made  some  good  points  in  some 
rather  original  as  well  as  good  situations,  yet  he  was  eventually  so 
completely  disturbed  by  the  partial  annoyance  as  to  quit  his  character, 
step  to  the  front  of  the  stage,  and  thus  address  the  audience : — Ladies 
and  gentlemen,  I  very  much  lament  that  on  the  first  night  of  my 
management,  I  should  have  occasion  to  address  you.  But  I  do  so  as 
much  on  account  of  the  author  as  myself.  I  have  known  many  of  our 
best  farces  to  be  literally  hooted  from  the  stage  on  the  first  night,  when 
they  had  not  been  heard  out  fairly ;  and  yet,  on  being  afterwards  repre- 
sented, they  secured  their  station  on  the  stage. 

"  If  I  thought  the  opinion  of  the  audience  was  against  the  performance, 
I  unhesitatingly  say  that,  with  all  humility,  we  would  bow  to  it ;  but 
hear  us  out." 

The  piece  then  proceeded  more  quietly ;  but  it  had,  in  reality,  an  un- 
fair hearing  from  the  interruption  of  two  or  three  voices. 

Mr.  Mathews's  next  new  character  was  Caleh  Piplcin,  in 
"  The  May  Queen,"  in  which  his  acting  was  most  particularly 
humorous. 

In  "The  May  Queen,"*  observes  a  contemporary  writer,  that  ini- 
mitable actor,  Mathews,  contrived,  as  usual,  to  keep  the  audience  in 
"  roars  of  laughter"  at  his  versatile  humour — a  dry  humour  that  we 
have  not  seen  equalled  in  our  time.  His  Caleb  I*ipkin  is  a  master- 
piece of  acting,  true  to  nature.  We  know  of  no  one  at  present  on  the 
stage,  who  could  at  all  come  near  to  him  in  the  personification  of  this 
character.  The  song,  "  The  Humours  of  a  Country  Fair"t  is  unique  of 
its  kind ;  it  ought  to  be  called  "  Mathews's  Humours ;"  for,  at  the 
present  time,  none  but  Mathews  could  give  it  as  he  does.  It  received, 
as  usual,  a  hearty  encore ;  but,  like  a  wise  man,  who  studies  human 
nature,  and  knows  that  it  likes  variety,  though  he  gave  the  same  tune, 
he  gave  other  words  when  he  answered  the  encore. 

It  was  amongst  the  most  admirable  features  of  my  husband's 
acting,  and  it  was  often  remarked  by  critics  as  an  instance  of 
his  peculiar  delicacy  of  tact  and  feeling,  that,  though  he  fre- 
quently gave  most  faithful  representations  of  the  lowest  life  and 
the  most  vulgar  pursuits,  he  never  did  so  vulgarly;  he  never 
revolted  the  most  fastidious  of  his  hearers.  In  fact,  he  was 
never  coarse  while  he  imitated  coarseness.  It  was  like  looking 
at  one  of  Wilkie's  pictures,  delineating  a  scene  in  low  life,  where 
no  idea  is  conveyed  that  the  painter  is  himself  a  low  man.  This 
is  the  peculiar  attribute  of  genius,  which,  take  what  form  it 
will,  never  oflfends. 

*  Written  by  Mr.  Buckstone. 
t  Written  by  0.  J.  Mathews. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  345 

This  remark  strictly  applies  to  Mr.  Mathews's  performance  of 
the  Tinker  in  "The  May  Queen;"  a  man  in  the  commonest 
grade  of  life,  in  a  state  of  half  intoxication  throughout ;  the 
representation  of  which,  nevertheless,  was  relished  by  every 
portion  of  the  audience ;  while  the  description  of  a  country  fair, 
faithful  in  every  particular,  was,  from  his  "  handling "  of  the 
subject,  made  a  source  of  general  enjoyment. 

The  following  letter  touches  upon  one  of  his  annoyances : — 

To  C.  T.  Harding,  Esq. 

My  deae  Sir, — I  wish  I  could  persuade  you,  amongst  numerous 
friends,  that  I  never  did  live  at  Highgate,  nor  is  Holly  Lodge  at  Hij^h- 
gate,  but  in  the  parish  of  St.  Pancras.*  It  makes  a  difference  of  nearly 
a  day  in  the  delivery  of  a  letter.  But  for  this  mistake,  you  would  have 
had  by  return  an  order  for  my  rehearsal  to-night.  I  enclose  you  an 
admission  for  Monday,  with  pleasure. 

Yours  truly,  C.  Mathews. 

I  enclose  my  address,  unaltered  for  ten  years,  and  your  cover,  in 
order  to  show  you  the  ceremony  a  letter  undergoes  that  is  directed 
"  Highgate."  I  would  not  care,  but  it  happens  a  hundred  times  in  the 
year. 

These  mistakes,  in  fact,  vexed  him  very  much ;  and  with  some 
reason.  We  frequently  waited  dinner  for  people  who  had  sent  a 
timely  excuse  for  non-attendance ;  but  owing  to  "  missent "  being 
found  upon  the  letter,  we  did  not  receive  it  til)  the  next  day. 

In  the  beginning  of  an  unusually  cold  Lent,  Mr.  Mathews 
returned  from  town  upon  his  pony,  complaining  of  a  severe  chill 
all  over  him,  and  that  his  chest  felt  much  affected  by  it.  He  be- 
came feverish,  and  at  last  was  prevailed  upon  to  send  for  medical 
advice. 

This  was  the  first  time  in  his  life  that  his  voice  was  seriously 
injicred,  or  his  lungs  what  he  called  damaged ;  and  I  have  since 
remembered  that  his  health  never  completely  recovered  from 
this  attack,  although  he  was  restored,  as  we  thought,  at  the 
time.  He  was  unable  to  perform  for  some  days,  and  remained 
in  the  house  during  the  period  of  his  indisposition — a  great  con- 
cession on  his  part,  under  every  circumstance,  and  which  ought 
to  have  warned  me  that  there  was  a  more  deeply -seated  cause 
for  his  confinement  than  a  slight  cold.  Alas !  it  was  the  first 
outward  intimation  of  the  "  ills  that  lurked  unseen"  in  his  appa- 
rently robust  constitution.     In  a  subsequent  letter  to  a  friend, 

*  Holly  Lodge,  the  seat  of  the  Duchess  of  St.  Alban's,  and  about  a  hundred 
yards  from  Ivy  Cottage. 


346  THE  LIFE  AND  CORKESPONDENCE  OF 

he  describes  the  nature  of  his  sufferings,  and  truly  calls  this  attack 
his  "first  real  illness." 

With  regard  to  the  imputed  irritability  of  Mr.  Mathews,  I 
may  say  that  nothing  but  indisputable  proof  could  convince  him 
of  intentional  offence,  and  then  he  was  depressed,  not  exaspe- 
rated, after  the  first  surprise.  He  felt  more  in  sorrow  than  in 
anger  when  an}'-  persons  deliberately  disappointed  his  expecta- 
tions, and  acted  in  contradiction  to  their  own  professions  ;  but 
the  shock  over,  irritation  ceased.  He  might  be  said  to  live 
without  enmities,  though  no  man  was  more  cheated,  ill-used,  or 
injured  by  those  in  whom  he  trusted.  Of  this  he  was  not 
always  insensible,  and  he  sometimes  complained,  but  never  re- 
sented. Personal  wrongs  he  overlooked,  but  he  never  could 
bear  to  see  the  objects  of  whom  he  had  conceived  a  positively 
bad  opinion — not  from  resentment,  but  an  involuntary  shrinking 
from  meeting  with  a  necessarily  altered  demeanour  persons  with 
whom  he  had  been  previously  cordial  and  friendly.  He  had  not 
stern  courage  enough  to  look  with  severity  in  the  face  of  those 
of  whom  he  once  thought  better,  and  he  therefore  avoided  them. 
So  unconquerable  was  this  infirmity  that  when  accident  threw 
him  unexpectedly  in  contact  with  a  person  of  this  kind,  he  had 
seldom  the  firmness  to  refuse,  if  claimed,  the  recognition  which 
his  sense  of  their  unworthiness  prompted  him  to  withhold ;  and 
he  never  felt  lasting  resentment  but  to  the  actually  unfeeling. 
He  never  could  endure  to  keep  discharged  servants  about  him 
after  their  going  was  determined  upon,  and  would  rather  suffer 
any  sacrifice  of  money  or  convenience. 

With  respect  to  servants  he  was  altogether  very  peculiar  in 
his  feelings.  He  was  extremely  timid  of  a  new  comer,  and 
when  I  expected  men  or  women  (strangers)  in  the  house,  it  was 
always  required  that  he  should  see  them  by  some  contrivance, 
without  their  being  aware  of  his  scrutiny,  before  I  concluded  to 
receive  their  services.  He  would  then  say,  "  Ah,  I  hke  that 
face,"  or,  "  I  don't  like  that  man  ;  I  shall  feel  uncomfortable  to 
ask  so  fine  a  gentleman  to  do  anything  for  me  ;"  or,  "  I  shall  be 
afraid  to  ask  that  sullen  fellow  for  what  I  want." 

He  always  took  a  hking  to  any  one  that  seemed  what  is  called 
a  character ;  simplicity  of  manners  was  a  sure  passport  to  his 
good  graces,  and  I  often  admitted  and  retained  very  stupid  and 
troublesome  people,  in  consequence  of  his  dislike  to  what  he 
termed  fine  servants.  I  have  known  him  in  some  moods  refuse 
to  dine  at  a  friend's  house,  where  he  was  very  intimate,  because 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  347 

he  could  not  bear  to  encounter  on  that  day  the  high-bred  servant 
who  waited  behind  his  chair. 

On  the  plea  of  liking  characters  about  him,  he  kept  a  man  for 
a  long  time,  in  the  quality  of  dresser  at  the  theatre,  whose  self- 
importance  was  his  best  recommendation.  He  unconsciously 
amused,  though  he  as  often  teased  his  master  by  his  peculiar 
manner.  Like  all  blockheads,  his  gravity  was  profound ;  he 
was  fond  of  "adding  weight  to  trifles"  when  he  could;  and  all 
this  was  very  diverting  to  his  employer  when  no  anxiety  was 
likely  to  be  touched  upon.  Above  all,  he  loved  a  "  misery  ;" 
would  rather  than  not  have  a  grievance  to  relate ;  his  face  wa» 
doleful  and  the  expressive  "title  to  a  tragic  volume."  His 
master  christened  him  Batt  Owlett,  from  his  love  of  the  dismals, 
which  were  in  general  elicited  by  the  most  trivial  causes.  For 
example : — One  night,  while  my  husband  was  under  the  most 
intense  anxiety  about  the  state  of  Charles's  health  (who  was 
then  extremely  ill  in  Italy),  and  painfully  alive  to  every  look  or 
word  that  might  seem  to  relate  to  the  sufferer,  he  went  to  per- 
form at  the  Adelphi,  in  "  The  May  Queen,"  with  spirits  unusually 
depressed ;  "  Batt"  met  him  at  the  door  of  his  dressing-room, 
with  face  elongated  and  eyes  cast  down,  and  addressed  him  in  a 
hollow  impressive  tone  with,  "  I'm  sorry  to  say,  sir,  that  I  have 
some  very  unpleasant  news  to  communicate  to  you!"  "Good 
God!"  exclaimed  his  master,  sinking  upon  a  chair,  "tell  me  at 
once  ;  don't  keep  me  in  suspense."  "  Well  then,  sir,  I'm  sorry 
to  say — I  can't  find  your  tinker's  hat  anywhere!"  The  next 
night  he  met  his  master  with  less  of  misery,  but  with  a  brow 
which  meant  suspicion  in  its  worst  form ;  and  Mr.  Mathews 
was  then  saluted  by  "Batt:"  "Sir,  I  have  something  very 
extraordinary  to  tell  you."  "Well?"  "You  will  be  surprised 
to  hear,  sir,  that  by  a  very  strange  coincidence  I  have  found 
your  tinker's  hat !" 

The  predecessor  of  this  "  gentleman"  (as  he  always  styled 
himself)  was  a  person  with  a  perpetual  cough  (a  sound  Mr. 
Mathews  held  in  the  greatest  horror),  yet,  because  the  "  Patch 
was  kind,"  he  could  not  bear  to  dismiss  him.  In  fact,  it  re- 
quired a  dependent  to  commit  some  flagrant  act  of  insolence  or 
dishonesty  to  incur  his  serious  displeasure.  In  all  cases  where 
any  subordinates  were  determined  to  attach  their  persons  and 
dis-services  to  him,  he  had  not  resolution  to  shake  them  off  in 
the  ordinary  way.  Such  was  his  nature,  "  Fine  by  defect  and 
amiably  weak." 


34)8  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

With  regard  to  temper,  Mr.  Mathews's  characteristic  irrita- 
biUtj  has  been  so  often  spoken  of,  that  persons  knowing  him 
only  by  report  must  have  set  him  down  as  one  of  those  of  whom 
everybody  had  reason  to  be  afraid.  This  was  a  mistake.  Good- 
nature was  the  prominent  feature  not  only  of  his  disposition  but 
behaviour ;  as  a  proof,  all  those  who  partook  of  that  quality 
understood  how  to  meet  his  peculiarities  and  nice  feelings,  and 
found  no  difficulty  in  his  society.  But  he  felt  so  acutely  every 
absence  of  propriety  and  tact,  in  natures  coarser  than  his  own, 
that  he  wanted  presence  of  mind  to  hide  the  immediate  effects 
of  such  discoveries,  and  winced  under  the  wounds  which  his 
better  taste  and  feeling  received.  I  never  heard  a  really  good- 
tempered  person — a  good-natured  person,  I  ought  to  say,  for 
the  terms  differ  materially — who  ever  accused  Mr.  Mathews  of 
being  otherwise. 

He  seldom  expressed  irritation  but  his  unintentional  drollery 
convulsed  all  present  with  laughter,  which  sometimes  added  to 
his  vexation,  but  more  frequently  restored  him  to  good  humour, 
when  I  explained  to  him  the  ludicrous  sense  into  which  his 
phrases  were  capable  of  being  turned.  He  would  then  join  in 
the  laugh,  and  adopt  my  view  of  them,  and  not  unfrequently 
have  they  been  turned  to  account  professionally.  For  instance, 
the  "  School  Orators"  arose  out  of  one  of  his  fits  of  impatience, 
caused  by  the  reiterated  invitations  of  a  gentleman  to  attend  the 
speech-days  at  his  boys'  school — a  bore  which  annoyed  him 
excessively,  and  which  one  day  induced  him  to  describe  such  a 
scene  to  me  by  standing  up  and  giving  a  specimen  of  the  boys 
of  various  ages  speaking  their  several  speeches.  At  this  I 
laughed  so  immoderately  that  gradually  his  severity  of  feeling 
relaxed,  and  he  good-humouredly  enlarged  upon  the  theme, 
which  I  declared  he  should  present  to  the  public.  I  mentioned 
this  to  Charles,  who  put  together  some  verses  (for  a  song)  as  a 
vehicle  for  his  father's  characteristic  imitations  of  the  boys' 
speeches,  and  which  had  as  great  an  effect  upon  the  stage  as 
they  had  produced  upon  myself.  Indeed,  he  generally  at  these 
moments  made  very  happy  hits.  I  remember  once  when  we 
were  at  Epsom  races,  sitting  in  the  carriage  on  the  course,  a 
very  importunate  and  revolting-looking  cripple,  to  whom  we  had 
the  day  before  given  money,  assailed  my  husband  while  he  was 
earnestly  engaged  in  conversation  with  a  gentleman  who  had 
entered  the  carriage  for  a  few  moments.  The  importunity  of 
the  beggar  was  not  to  be  weakened  by  the  assurance  that  "  we 
had  nothing  for  him,"  and  that  we  had  relieved  him  "yester- 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  349 

day."  It  was  unavailing  all,  and  Mr.  Mathews,  full  of  anxiety 
to  finish  what  he  had  to  say  to  the  person  in  the  carriage  before 
the  next  race  began,  and  finding  his  persecutor  determined  to 
continue  his  clamorous  interruption,  was  now  worked  up  to  the 
highest  pitch  of  exasperation.  Finding  the  tiresome  intruder 
begin  again  to  renew  his  solicitation,  my  husband,  in  a  transport 
of  anger,  suddenly  dragged  up  the  jalousie  in  order  to  shut  out 
the  nuisance,  and,  as  the  man  at  this  moment  once  more  adjured 
him  to  "  Pity  the  poor  lame !"  he  was  in  turn  desired,  in  tones 
faithfully  resembling  his  own,  to  "  Pity  the  poor  blind !"  Even 
the  beggar  laughed,  who  was  shrewd  enough  to  perceive  the 
joke. 

He  had  always  great  presence  of  mind  in  these  cases.  I  re- 
member, amongst  many  impromptus  of  the  kind,  one  night  in 
Liverpool,  while  performing  at  his  table,  a  tipsy  and  riotous 
sailor  in  the  gallery  interrupted  and  annoyed  him  all  the  first 
part  of  the  evening  with  his  remarks  and  grumblings  at  the 
style  of  amusement,  which  of  course  he  could  neither  understand 
nor  relish.  The  audience  were  fretted,  and  the  general  enjoy- 
ment upset.  In  one  part  of  the  entertainment  Mr.  Mathews 
had  to  represent  an  astronomer  lecturing  on  the  heavenly  bodies 
for  the  instruction  of  a  pupil,  and  while  holding  up  a  telescope 
he  had  to  say — "  There,  that's  Jupiter,  and  that's  Venus  ;"  his 
persecutor,  quite  tired  of  this,  again  interrupted  him  with  some 
coarse  remark  in  his  gruffest  tones.  Mr.  Mathews,  who  still 
kept  the  telescope  to  his  eye,  turned  it  immediately  towards  the 
spot  where  his  pest  was  seated,  and,  as  if  in  continuation  of  his 
instructions,  added,  "and  that's  the  Great  Bear." 

In  the  spring  of  the  year  1829  Mr.  Mathews,  in  conjunction 
with  Mr.  Yates,  performed  his  first  entertainment  at  the  Adelphi. 
The  whole  of  the  table  parts  were,  as  usual,  by  himself ;  but  he 
was  relieved  by  Mr.  Yates  in  the  dramatic  acts,  who  undertook 
that  series  of  rapid  change  of  dress  and  character,  originally 
introduced  and  made  so  popular  by  Mr.  Mathews,  whose  in- 
creasing lameness  rendered  such  lodomotion  most  painful  to  him. 
I  here  introduce  the  announcement  of  this  entertainment. 

ADELPHI  THEATKE. 

The  public  is  respectfully  informed  that  Messrs.  Mathews  and  Yates 
will  conjointly  be  "  At  Home,"  and  deliver  their  annual  Spring  Enter- 
tainment, on  Thursday,  April  30th,  and  Saturday,  May  2nd,  1829. 

The  evening's  amusements  to  commence  with  Mr.  Mathews's  new 
Lecture,  in  two  parts,  on  peculiarities  and  manners,  entitled  the 


350  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

SPRING  MEETING* 

PAET   THE   FIEST. 

Exordium. — All  Abroad  for  a  Home. — Thoughts  foreign  to  the 
matter. — Resigning  sway  for  want  of  a  subject.— Legitimate  by  special 
desire. — Lost  in  space. — Advice  gratis. — Hint  for  a  New  Company. — 
Never  really  at  home  before. — Propriety  of  becoming  a  Proprietor. — 
Embarkation  in  the  Adelphi. — Trip  proposed. — Sporting  Calendar. — 
Chapter  of  Entertainments. 

Song — Spring  Meetings. 

Travelling  Companions. — Introductions. — Doctor  Callender,  Phy- 
sician or  Musician,  and  Optician,  Magister  Coquorum  and  Travelling 
Oracle,  Director  of  Wills  and  Regulator  of  Powers,  Inventor  of  Tewah- 
diddle,  Wow-wow  Sauce,  and  l5og-sup  Wiggy's  Way. — Mr.  Rattle, 
Auto-biographer  in  Embryo. — Reminiscence  Writer  and  RecoUector 
that  will  be. — Humanity  Stubbs,  always  saying  one  thing  and  never 
meaning  another. — Starting  from  Rumpus's. — Tale  of  a  Bull. — The 
Doctor  and  the  Hounds. — Hunger  and  Hydrophobia. — Bark  both  ways. 
— Provisional  Theatre. — White  Hart. — Bob  Merrington. — Theatrical 
Landlord  and  Actor  of  taste — Baddely's  Twelfth  Cake  to  wit. — Long 
Debates  and  no  News. 

Song— XowcZo^  Newspapers. 

Caution  to  Cooks. — Oh,  the  D — 1 !  well,  I  never.— Dinner  in  dubio. 
— Poached  Eggs  and  Peristaltic  Persuaders. — Journey  resumed. — Trip 
by  Steam. — Kettle  versus  Cattle. — Turnpike  Adventure. — Mr.  Mobbit 
on  his  legs. — Patriotic  Oration. — Ramfords  and  Registers. — A  grate 
difference. — Steam  at  a  stand-still. — Passengers  be  Wallsend-ed. 
Song — Doncaster  Races. 

At  the  end  of  the  First  Part  Mr.  Yates  will  deliver  a  viva  voce 
Report,  never  before  reported,  of  the  unprecedented  case  of  Breach  of 
Promise  of  Marriage,  Fladdigan  versus  Bathershau,  as  tried  the  first 
sittings  of  the  present  Home  Circuit,  to  wit  before  Lord  Chief  Justice 
Punbury,  elucidatory  of 

Love  among  the  Lawyers,  or  Courting  in  Court. 

Parties  to  the  suit — "  It  is  the  cause !  it  is  the  cause !" 

Mrs.  Judith  Fladdigan,— r^.  melting  Butter- woman,  of  long 
Handm^  in  the  market-place,  Dublin,  Venus  of  the  Fats,  a  fresh 
victim  to  Barney's  soft  impressions, — Flaintiff. 

Mr.  Barney  Bathershau, — a  Green  Grocer  of  St.  Stephen's  Green, 
lately  transplanted  from  the  Groves  of  Blarney,  "  more  honoured  in  the 
Breach  than  the  observance"  of  his  promise, — Defendant. 

Counsel — "  Brief  let  me  be." 

For  the  Prosecution. — Mr.  Philip  O'Blossom,  the  crim.  con.  Cicero, 

*  By  Mr.  Moncrief. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  351 

with  an  Indignant  Phili/p^iG  against  the  Cupidity  of  the  defendant. — 
Specially  retained. 

For  the  Defence. — Mr.  Dennis  Demosthenes  O'Daisy,  "  making  the 
worst  appear  the  better  reason,"  with  the  common  plea  of  palliation  to 
the  plaintiff's  declaration. 

Witness — "  Bear  witness,  gentlemen." 

UJr.  Patrick  Shane, — an  impartial  witness  subpcBnaedbythejoar^/aZ 
party,  deeply  wrapped  up  in  the  importance  of  his  own  evidence  and  a 
rug  cloak. 

Judge  and  Jury — "  Now  on  to  judgment." 

On  the  Bench  behind  the  Bar. — Mr.  Chief- Justice  Punbury  labouring 
to  prove  Justice  2.  jest  is.     On  the  benches  before  it  an  unlimited  Jury. 
The  whole  put  on  the  EoU  and  brought  into  action  by  Mr.  Yates. 


PA.RT   THE   SECOND   OF 

MR.  MATHEWS'S  SPRING  MEETING. 

Newmarket. — Walking  over  the  Course. — A  Stable  Story. — Stubbs's 
Tale  of  a  Tail,  or  retailing  extraordinary. — Return  to  London. — Road- 
side Adventure. — Mr.  Moritz,  the  jilted  German ;  or.  Sentiment  in 
despair  :  a  killing  story. — "  Werter  and  Whilemina." — Trip  to  Wool- 
wich.— Patrick  and  the  Peas ;  or,  Irish  Notions  of  Marrowfats. 
Song — The  Ship  Launch. 

A  Melancholy  Story. — Crooked  Billeting. — The  Inn  out. — What 
have  you  got  ? — The  Scotch  Lady  redivivus ;  "  Should  auld  acquaintance 
be  forgot;"  anither  little  anecdote;  a  Kirk  Story,  "fifthly,  my 
brethren  ;"  a  Friend  from  the  North. — New  Mail-coach  Adventure. — 
Company  up  or  down. — A  Luckie  Story. — A  Passenger  too  many. 

Song — Lord  Mayor's  Show. 

The  Ship  Inn. — Rattle  and  the  Chambermaid. — Making  Mems  for 
Memoirs. — Love  tor  Publication. — Cupid  in  a  Chapter. — Concerting 
measures  to  encourage  harmony. 

Song — The  Country  Concert. 
Arranged  by  Mr.  John  Barnett,  from  the  author's  selection. 
With  additional  orchestra  expressly  for  this  occasion,  all  playing  at 
sight.     Leader,  Mr.  Mathews.— First  fiddle,  Mr.  Wood. — Tenor,  Mr. 
Boardman,  from  Bristol. — Double  bass,  Mr.  Size. — Flute,  Mr.  Hand- 
aside. — Grand  Finale. 

To  conclude  with,  for  the  first  time,  an  entirely  new  grand  panto- 
mimical  monopolylogue,  with  an  entirely  new  scene,  new  music,  pro* 
perties,  tricks,  dresses,  and  decorations,  which  have  been  several  hours 
in  preparation,  founded  on  an  undeciphered  legend  never  before  made 
public,  entitled, 


852  THE  LIFE  AND  COERESPONDENCE  OF 

Sarlequin  and  Mr.  Jenkins  ;  or,  Pantomime  in  the  Parlour. 

First  and  last  scene. — Interior  of  Jenkins'  Folly,  the  enchanting 
residence  of  Mr.  Jenkins,  with  a  beautifully  romantic  parlour-window 
view  of  the  street  and  neighbouring  houses — magical  appearance  of  the 
gas-lights,  and  mysterious  rising  of  the  moon. 

Mr.  Jenkins, — proprietor  of  Jenkins'  Folly,  a  private  Pantaloon  and 
an  amateur  conjuror,  formerly  in  the  tea  and  China  trade,  projecting  a 
pantomime,  and  practising  the  Ombres  Chinoises  for  his  own  amuse- 
ment,—Mr.  Yates. 

Miss  Rosetta  Zephyrina  Jenkins, — his  daughter,  heiress  of  Jenkins' 
Folly,  and  Columbine  of  the  China  closet,  concocting  crackers  and  fiz- 
gigs a  la  Hengler,  amusing  her  leisure  hours  with  patchwork  and  Mr. 
Harley  Quin,— Mr.  Yates. 

Mr.  Harley  Quin, — a  young  Bologna  caper  merchant  and  colourman 
of  Wandsworth,  up  to  a  trick  or  two, — Mr.  Yates. 

Mrs.  Pantalina, — Mr.  Yates. 

Monsieur  Frogueville  Parisian  Pierrotquier, — inhabitant  of  the 
mystic  jar,  wishing  to  enchant  Mrs.  Pantalina, — Mr.  Yates. 

Molly  Thrullihluhher, — from  the  lower  regions,  a  fatxxowsi  being 
transformed  into  a  mountain  of  flesh,  cook  to  Mr.  Jenkins,  and  pro- 
fessor of  the  culinary  mysteries, — Mr.  Yates. 

Joe  Merriman, — formerly  imp  of  the  ring,  slave  of  the  knife-board, 
and  footman  to  Mr.  Jenkins, — Mr.  Yates. 

Ted  Trot-ter-dog, — guardian  spirit  of  the  stars,  nightly  protector  of 
the  Jenkins  dynasty,  and  parish  watchman,  from  Donnybrook,  victim 
in  the  fatal  combustion  of  the  China  closet, — Mr.  Yates. 

To  conclude  with  a  grand  blow  up,  intended  for  the  eruption  of  Mount 
Vesuvius. 

The  present  year's  entertainment  was  one  of  the  most  popular 
of  the  series. 

At  the  close  of  a  most  prosperous  "  At  Home"  at  the 
Adelphi,  Mr.  Mathews  made  a  short  professional  tour  in  com- 
pany with  Mr.  Yates. 

To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Plymouth,  July  20th,  1829. 

Two  days  of  pouring  rain,  head  of  the  carriage  up  !  very  wretched 
fires  at  night.  I  always  meet  with  adventures ;  but  certainly  we  have 
met  with  the  most  singular  in  the  annals  of  posting.  Our  post-boy 
lost  his  way  on  Saturday  morning,  and  drove  literally  upon  a  wild  plain, 
in  some  parts  of  which  no  tracks  of  wheels  could  be  seen,  and  no 
carriage  had  ever  been  before.  At  last,  with  our  tremendous  heavy 
carriage,  we  stuck  fast ;  and  if  we  had  not  all  simultaneously  called 
*'  Stop,"  and  jumped  off,  we  must  have  been  upset.  My  mind  had  misgiven 
me  for  some  time  that  we  were  not  in  a  turnpike  road,  I  mean  before 
we  came  to  turf;  but,  after  a  few  damns  from  us,  the  rascal  confessed 
that  he  had  never  driven  the  road  before,  and  had  only  gone  to  his  place 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  353 

on  Thursday  ni^ht.  He  was  too  proud  to  ask  his  way,  and  there  we 
were  stuck  lust !  We  had  to  walk  in  a  swamp,  and  at  the  moment  we 
alighted  a  most  desperate  shower  came  on.  It  was  like  a  waterspout. 
The  circumstance  of  the  landlord  sending  a  boy  ignorant  of  the  road, 
and  his  undertaking  the  task,  made  it  so  provoking,  that  no  temper 
could  endure  it  with  coolness.  The  original  stage  was  only  seven  miles, 
and  we  were  two  hours  and  a  half  performing  our  route !  How  many 
miles  we  made  of  it.  Heaven  knows.  A  trace  snapped  in  two  in  an 
effort  to  extricate  the  carriage,  lightened  as  it  was  by  our  leaving  it ; 
and  if  we  had  not  luckily  had  a  remarkably  long  strap  that  fastened 
the  seat  behind,  we  could  not  have  got  on  at  all.  However,  we  did  find 
the  turnpike  road  at  last,  and  our  accident  was  only  food  for  laughter 
afterwards ;  not  one  of  us  caught  cold,  though  no  one  so  subject  as 
Yates.  His  escape  is  wonderful ;  for  he  was  drenched,  and  up  to  his 
knees  in  white  clay,  running  after  shepherds  to  inquire  our  way  out. 
Yesterday  repaid  us  for  all :  not  one  shower,  and  we  travelled  through 
fifty  miles  of  garden,  magnificent,  rich,  beautifully  variegated  scenery, 
arriving  safe,  sound,  and  well.  To-day  gives  promise  of  fine  settled 
weather — not  a  cloud — and  /  acknowledge  it  to  be  warm.  Dr.  Taylor 
and.  his  wife  surprised  me  by  writing  me  a  note  to  call  upon  them.  He 
has  changed  air  for  his  health,  but  looks  very  poorly,  We  have  got  a 
snug  lodging  (no  easy  afiair  at  this  time),  and  all  is  right. 

C.  Mathews. 

Mr.  Mathews's  next  letter  gives  an  account  of  a  still  greater 
disaster — indeed,  a  fearful  accident. 

To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Plymouth,  July  23rd,  1829. 
I  have  been  basking  in  the  sun  to-day.  I  hope  you  have  the  weather 
as  fine  as  we  have  had.  I  have  not  seen  such  a  day  for  years.  We 
have  been  on  board  a  hoy  belonging  to  the  superintendent  of  the 
Victualling-office,  whence  I  write.  I  am  perfectly  well.  I  should  not 
probably  have  written  to-day,  if  I  had  not  seen  a  Plymouth  paper,  in 
which  they  have  recorded  one  of  my  extraordinary  escapes.  I  feared  it 
might  be  copied  into  a  London  paper,  and  you  would  be  needlessly 
alarmed.  The  fact  is  as  they  have  mentioned,  excepting  for  "  an  hour" 
read  ten  minutes,  as  I  had  just  finished  the  concert  song,  and  was 
bowing  to  the  audience,  when  the  roller  of  the  drop  fell  on  my  head 
and  perfectly  stunned  me.  I  was  certainly  insensible  for  some  time ; 
three  medical  men  were  on  the  spot  before  I  was  removed  from  the 
place  where  I  fell,  and  one  of  them  instantly  bled  me,  during  which 
time  I  recovered. 

C.  Mathews. 

The  following  is  the  paragraph  alluded  to  by  Mr.  Mathews : — 

Accident  to  Mr.  Mathews,  the  Comedian. — A  letter  from  Plymouth, 
21st  July,  says :  "  Messrs.  Mathews  and  Yates  arrived  yesterday,  and 

A  A 


354  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

commenced  their  performances  last  night  to  a  brilliant,  crowded,  and 
highly  fashionable  audience.  Of  course  Mathews  was  '  At  Home,'  but 
in  that  part  of  his  Home  called  '  Spring  Meeting'  the  curtain  unex- 
pectedly fell  and  struck  him  on  the  head,  which  rendered  him  insensible 
for  an  hourand  a  half!  Medical  aid  was  immediately  procured,  and  he 
was  bled,  by  which  means  his  visit  to  his  *  long  home'  was  fortunately 
(for  us)  protracted.  This  inimitable  comedian  and  excellent  man  is  so 
far  recovered  as  to  resume  his  performances  to-night."      - 


To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Plymouth,  July  25th,  1829. 

As  I  anticipated,  the  London  papers  have  heard  of  my  accident,  the 
Courier  making  it  out  that  I  lay  an  hour  and  a  half  insensible.  The 
accident,  at  all  events,  has  not  left  a  trace  behind,  excepting  in  the  arm 
in  which  I  was  bled.  I  am  in  every  respect  well,  as  I  always  am  at, 
on,  or  near  the  sea.  Dr.  Taylor  positively  agrees  with  me  that  mine  is 
not  a  cough.  It  is  only  phlegm,  and  of  no  consequence  at  all ;  even 
of  that  I  am  much  better.* 

We  shall  finish  about  the  17th  of  August,  and  I  shall  be  ready, 
allowing  for  nearly  three  days'  journey  to  London  and  a  short  time  at 
home.  I  should  say,  I  can  start  for  Paris  on  the  23rd.  From  the 
moment  of  my  recovery  I  only  thought  of  my  most  providential  escape  j 
for  the  blow  I  received,  one  would  suppose,  would  have  killed  an  ox. 
The  next  day  I  was  no  worse,  excepting  a  bump  and  a  slight  cut  in  my 
head.  I  have  now  perfectly  recovered — never  better.  The  accident 
was  thus  occasioned :  the  man  who  was  at  the  drop  in  the  flies,  waiting 
the  signal  to  let  it  fall,  prepared,  but  the  windlass  broke,  and  the  curtain 
therefore  came  down  with  a  run. 

C.  Mathews. 

"  Beautiful  weather !"  Summer  unclouded.  This  is  only  the  third 
door  on  the  right  hand  from  Paradise. 


To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Exeter,  August  12th,  1829. 
We  have  returned  here  for  the  assizes,  and  play  three  nights  this 
week.  Two  houses  out  of  three  will  have  all  the  fashion  of  town  and 
country.  Lady  Morley  was  determined  to  make  up  for  breaking  our 
chair  by  introducing  me  to  about  fifty  of  her  acquaintances,  on  the 
Grand  Stand  at  the  races.  Out  of  this  grew  a  pressing  invitation  from 
Mr.  Bulteel,  who  was  at  our  house  with  Lord  Auckland  and  his  sisters. 
I  went  there  on  Saturday,  and  stayed  till  Monday. 
I  am  remarkably  well,  but  very  home  sick. 

C.  Mathevts. 
*  It  will  by  these  affections  be  seen  that  his  "cold"  was  not  conquered, 
and  that  he  still  retained  in  a  moderated  degree  the  disorder  which  exhibited 
itself,  for  the  first  time,  on  the  Ash  Wednesday  of  the  present  year. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  355 

Late  in  August  Charles  travelled  from  Italy,  in  order  to  spend 
a  few  weeks  with  us ;  and  after  a  few  days'  stay  with  me  at  the 
Cottage,  I  proceeded  to  join  his  father  at  Boulogne,  who  was 
announced,  jointly  with  Mr.  Yates,  to  perform  there.  They 
carried  their  design  into  execution  with  great  success,  and  after- 
wards we  all  proceeded  together  to  Paris.  There  the  same  result 
followed  their  performance  that  had  attended  it  everywhere 
else,  the  theatre  being  fairly  divided  between  the  natives  and 
the  resident  English. 

From  the  first  moment  I  saw  the  comedians  of  France,  I 
always  thought  my  husband's  style  of  acting  peculiarly  French^ 
and  I  often  remarked  of  Potier,  in  the  year  1821,  how  much  he 
reminded  me,  in  eccentric  old  men,  of  Mr.  Mathews  in  the  same 
line  of  character.  In  this  case  no  imitation  could  have  occasioned 
the  resemblance,  for  Mr.  Mathews  had  never  seen  Potier  or 
France  until  the  year  1818,  when  he  had  ceased  to  be  a  regular 
actor  in  the  drama. 

At  the  close  of  this  engagement,  the  partners  repeated  their 
performance  at  Boulogne,  previously  to  their  return  to  England 
for  the  re-opening  of  the  Adelphi  Theatre.  Mr.  Yates  having 
gained  his  partner's  slow  leave,  engaged  the  celebrated  acting 
elephant  (Mademoiselle  Djek)  for  the  ensuing  opening;  and, 
fortunately  as  it  turned  out,  for  the  success  of  that  part  of  the 
season,  when  another  female  actress  of  great  popularity  made  a 
strong  opposition  to  the  minors — Mademoiselle  Djek  and  Miss 
Fanny  Kemble  shared  the  town  between  them — each  the  greatest 
in  her  line. 


aa2 


356  THE  LIFE  AND  COREESPONDENCE  OF 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

Be-opening  of  the  Adelphi  Theatre — Mr,  Mathews's  Comic  Annual  for  1830 — 
Address  on  the  close  of  the  performance  at  the  Adelphi — Arrival  from  Italy 
of  Mr.  Mathews's  son — Severe  illness  of  the  latter — Mr.  Mathews's  fondness 
for  birds  and  other  animals — The  little  bantam — Letter  to  the  Rev.  T. 
Speidell — Letter  to  Mrs.  Mathews — Letter  to  Mr.  Mathews  from  the  late 
Mr.  Godwin — Study  for  his  last  novel  of  "  Cloudesly" — Power  of  destroying 
personal  identity — Wonderful  instance  of  this  in  Mr.  Mathews — Letter  to 
the  Rev.  T.  Speidell— "  Comic  Annual"  for  1831  at  the  Adelphi  Theatre 
— Performances  of  Mr.  Mathews  and  Mr.  Yates — Charles  Mathews,  Junior, 
and  Carlo  Nanini — Illness  of  the  latter :  his  death — Effect  of  this  event  on 
Mr.  Mathews  described  in  letters  to  Mrs.  Mathews. 

On  the  26th  of  April,  1830,  the  Adelphi  Theatre  was  re-opened. 
The  following  is  the  bill  of  the  entertainment,  in  which  Mr. 
Yates  this  season  took  no  part : — 

THEATRE  ROYAL,  ADELPHI. 

The  public  is  most  respectfully  informed,  that  on  Monday  next, 
April  26th,  1830, 

MR.  MATHEWS  WILL  BE  "AT  HOME," 

And  have  the  honour  to  present  an  entirely  new  Entertainment, 
in  three  parts,  called 

MATHEWS'S   COMIC   ANNUAL  FOR   1830.* 

With  humorous  cuts  and  other  embellishments. 

To  be  published  April  26th  (Boards),  Adelphi,  Strand  (packed  in 
Boxes)  Four  Shillings. 

PAET  riEST. 

Chapter  \st. — Reasons  for  undertaking  the  Editorship. — Parting 
with  Partner. — Reviewers. — Mrs.  Neverend. 

Chapter  2nd. — Mr.  John  Downright  Shearman,  retired  master  tailor. 
— Monsr.  Vindrin.— -Mike  Earwig,  a  whispering  waiter. — British 
Justice. — Police  Office. — A  Skip. 

Song — Zoological  Gardens, 
*  ByK.  B.Peake,  Esq 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  357 

Chapter  3rd. — Embellishment,  Portrait  of  Mr.  Sadjolly,  a  hale 
Valetudinarian. — His  sons,  Master  Dicky  Sadjolly  and  Master  Jeremiah 
Crackthorpe  Sadjolly. — Youthful  Rivalry. — Turn  over  a  New  Leaf,  &c. 

Chapter  4,th. — Mr.  Shakeley. — Nerves. 

Song — The  Corlc-cutters  Festival. 

Trip  to  Scotland. — The  Rev.  Mr.  Muckledrawl. — Saunders,  a  Cale- 
donian Carpenter. — Working  to  Music. — Whistling. — Second  Em- 
bellishment, Mr.  Dispepys. — Double-bedded  Room. — Living  Nightmare. 

PAET    SECOND. 

Chapter  \st. — Embellishment,  Mr.  Lavolta. — Habitual  Risibility.— 
Mr.  Sadjolly's  Visit  to  London. — Affection  of  the  Spine. — French 
Housemaid. — Brushing  up  a  Tongue. — Visit  to  Mr.  Polish,  the  dentist. 
— The  two  Boys'  Teeth. — Mr.  Lavolta  with  a  laughable  Toothache. — 
Mr.  Polish's  relaxation. — German  Air,  never  heard  in  this  country. 

Song — Sarmonic  Dentist. 

Chapter  2nd. — Monsieur  Vindrin. — Lost  Snulf-box. — Les  petites 
Allouettes. — French  sense  of  Honour. 

Chapter  Srd. — Lieutenant  M'Craw. — West  Indies. — Honourable 
Kingston  Native  and  Creole  Assembly. — Digression. 

Song — Irish  Berrin. 

Chapter  4ith. — Hie  jacet. — Cook's  Voyages. — Mr.  Dispepsy's  encore. 
— The  Herefordshire  Prize  Ox,  4684  lbs.  10  oz. — Raffle. — How  to  win 
a  great  loss. — Mrs.  Neverend's  last  words. 

Song — Vauxhall  Gardens. 
Mr.  Mathews's  reading  and  introduction  to  the  Afterpiece. 

FINALE. 

Mr.  Sadjolly. — Mr.  Lavolta. — The  Boys. — Vindrin. — Earwig. — 
Mr.  Mathews. 

PAET   THIED. 

Will  be  presented  as  a  Pictorial  Embellishment  to  the  Comic  Annual, 

A  Monopolylogue  to  be  called  THE  LONE  HOUSE. 

Dramatis  personce,  enacted  by  Mr.  Mathews. 

Mrs.  Dora  Dunhird, — Deaf  Housekeeper. 

Andrew, — Butler,  groom,  gardener,  and  cook  to  Sir  Chevy  Melton, 
when  the  respective  servants  are  absent. 

Jeremiah  Abershaw,  Usq. — Prior  to  his  elevation. 
John  Sheppard,  Esq. — Antecedent  to  his  suspension. 

Dramatis  personce y  represented  by  Andrew. 

Ap  LeeTcs, — Sir  Chevy  Melton's  Welsh  gardener. 
Bechamel, — his  French  Cook. 

Captain  Grapnell,  R.N. — Friend  of  Sir  Chevy  Melton. 
&c.  &c.  &c. 


358  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

At  the  close  of  his  performances  at  the  Adelphi  Theatre  this 
season,  Mr.  Mathews  addressed  his  audience  in  nearly  the  fol- 
lowing terms : — 

Ladies  and  Gentlemen, — It  is  customary  on  such  occasioris  as 
the  present  to  acknowledge  the  patronage  which  has  been  bestowed 
tipon  the  efforts  of  the  performers ;  but  I  really  feel  myself  so  much 
exhausted  that  1  can  say  little  beyond  the  simple  word  "  farewell."  At 
a  time  when,  from  what  causes  1  will  not  pretend  to  determine,  there  is 
not  so  strong  a  disposition  to  encourage  theatrical  entertainments  as 
formerly  existed — at  a  time,  too,  when  the  market  is  overstocked  with 
foreign  produce,  I  feel  much  gratified,  and,  indeed,  I  may  say,  even 
more  astonished  than  gratified,  that  so  humble  an  article  of  home 
manufacture  as  that  which  I  have  been  able  to  offer  jou,  should  have 
met  with  such  distinguished  success.  I  wish  it  to  be  understood,  that 
in  the  allusion  which  I  have  just  made,  I  speak  not  for  myself,  inasmuch 
as  this  is  the  period  when,  probably,  under  any  circumstances,  my 
season  would  have  closed ;  but  I  speak  in  behalf  of  those  who  have 
large  and  expensive  establishments  to  maintain.  This  is  the  thirteenth 
season  in  which  I  have  had  the  honour  of  appearing  single-handed 
before  you.  The  entertainment  which  has  been  offered  you  this  evening 
has  been  repeated  forty  nights.  It  is  usnal  on  such  a  night  as  this  to 
return  thanks  in  the  name  of  the  whole  company.  Here  we  are 
unanimous ;  and,  in  the  name  of  all  whom  I  may  represent,  I  respectfully 
hid  you  "  farewell." 

Mr.  Mathews  then  retired  amidst  enthusiastic  applause.  The 
house  was  quite  full. 

The  Adelphi  having  once  more  closed,  my  husband  again 
journeyed  to  the  provinces. 

To  K.  B.  Gyles,  Esq. 

London,  Dec.  15th,  1830. 

Deak  Gyles, — I  hereby  acknowledge  the  receipt  of  your  letter,  per' 
threepenny  to-day.  You  have  been  a  long  while  about  it,  and  hardly 
deserve  an  answer ;  therefore  I  won't  be  put  off,  so  I  won't.  I  will  have 
the  smallest  bantams  in  the  world.  Where  is  the  one  we  met  one  day 
in  Ross-market. 

I  was  on  the  point  of  writing  to  you,  if  I  had  not  heard,  to  tell  you  of  the 
.arrival  of  our  poor  dear  Charley.  You  may  fancy  his  sufferings,  when  I 
tell  you  that  at  the  time  we  heard  from  him  at  your  house  in  August  he 
had  been  then  confined  two  months,  and  lost  the  use  of  his  limbs  en- 
tirely in  that  month,  from  which  time  he  has  not  been  able  to  lift  his 
hand  to  his  head,  walk  even  on  crutches,  or  turn  himself  in  bed.  Do 
you  not  marvel  ?  Do  you  not  laud  him  for  unheard-of  resolution  in 
returning  ?  "  Will  after  ages  believe  it !  "  His  leeches  (well  may  they 
be  so  termed  in  old  plays)  at  Venice,  condemned  him  to  four  months 
more  solitary  confinement;  told  him  if  he  moved  it  would  be  certain 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  359 

death.  Well,  said  he,  I  will  rather  die  on  the  road,  with  the  chance  of 
seeing  my  parents  and  beloved  home  once  more.  He  bought  a  carriage, 
ordered  his  Italian  servant  to  put  him  in,  as  he  would  have  ordered  his 
own  trunk,  and  in  that  helpless,  forlorn,  wretched  state,  undertook  a 
journey  of  one  thousand  four  hundred  miles,  which  he  accomplished  in 
nineteen  days ;  the  post  takes  fourteen  or  fifteen.*  It  was  the  most 
afflicting  sight  I  ever  experienced,  to  see  him  lifted  from  the  carriage. 
The  only  evidence  of  the  body  being  animated  was  the  sound  of  his 
dear  voice,  offering  up  thanksgivings  to  God  for  having  granted  him 
strength  to  reach  home.  He  is  already  somewhat  better,  and  all  the 
doctors  promise  a  perfect  recoveiy ;  but  do  not  promise  it  under  some 
four  or  five  months. 

Love  to  your  wife,  and  be  assured  of  the  unalterable  friendship  of 

Mat. 

This  dreadful  visitation  of  Charles's  was  produced  by  a  fever, 
some  said  malaria.  On  his  return  home,  a  consultation  took 
place,  and  Doctors  Paris  and  Johnston  agreed  in  their  opinion 
upon  the  occasion,  that  the  youth,  good  constitution,  and  excel- 
lent habits  of  the  patient  would  restore  him,  without  the  aid  of 
medicine ;  and  so  it  proved.  He  was  a  cripple,  however,  full 
twelve  months,  and  an  acute  sufferer  the  greater  part  of  the 
time. 

But  to  return  to  the  paragraph  of  the  foregoing  letter,  in 
which  Mr.  Mathews  says,  "  I  ivill  have  the  smallest  Wntams  in 
the  world."  It  was  always  diverting  to  see  the  craving  he  had 
for  collecting  animals  and  birds,  and,  indeed,  every  living  thing. 
He  had  so  many  pets  in  this  way,  that  it  seemed  extraordinary 
how  he  found  time  to  notice  all.  He  generally  had  two  piping 
bullfinches,  always  a  parrot,  sometimes  a  cockatoo,  often  a  gull, 
and  a  lark ;  he  had  also  gold  and  silver  fish,  a  magpie,  a  tortoise, 
two  dormice,  a  tame  hawk,  and  that  rare  talking  bird,  a  Mino. 
This  last  he  had  taught  to  speak.  Then  a  variety  of  dogs,  cats, 
rabbits,  &c.,  too  many  to  enumerate.  All  these  contributed  in 
turn  to  interest  and  employ  his  attention  ;  but  he  loved  bantams, 
and  "  would,"  as  he  said, "  have  the  smallest  in  the  world."  One 
was  at  last  procured,  the  most  perfect  little  creature  I  ever  saw 
— the  most  beautiful  that  could  be  imagined.  The  first  morning 
of  his  arrival  he  was  associated  with  others  of  the  same  class,  in 
a  Lilliputian  spot  laid  out  for  them  apart  from  the  common  herd 
of  fowls ;  but  he  contrived  to  give  his  companions  the  slip  the 
very  first  day,  and  whilst  at  breakfast  in  a  room  leading  into  a 
conservatory,  we  were  surprised  to  see  this  little  strutting  fellow 

*  He  travelled  in  a  carriage  in  which  a  bed  was  constructed. 


360  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONDEKCE  OF 

come  in  and  tamely  walk  about  the  room,  as  if  a  thing  of  custom 
with  it.  This  delighted  my  husband,  and  he  showed,  his  delight 
like  a  child ;  he  strewed  crumbs  and  fed  his  little  favourite,  who 
retired  voluntarily  when  satisfied,  and  we  saw  no  more  of  him 
that  day.  The  next  morning  at  the  same  period,  to  our  in- 
creased surprise,  our  little  visitor  again  marched  in  and  received 
his  reward,  allowing  us  all  to  take  him  up  in  turn,  and  feeling 
perfect  confidence.  This  conduct  actually  had  the  effect  of 
making  my  husband  rise  every  morning  as  soon  as  the  little 
curiosity  crowed  the  breakfast  hour,  when  he  was  sure  to  be  true 
to  time.  It  really  was  curious  to  observe  the  tiny  being  perform 
this  duty  morning  after  morning,  and  live,  as  we  ascertained,  the 
rest  of  his  time  in  total  reserve  with  his  own  species,  picking 
up  his  share  of  their  provision,  but  in  a  manner  apart  from 
tliem,  and  retiring  to  roost  near  the  house  in  a  branch  of  ivy, 
nestling  himself  in  its  thickness,  instead  of  perching  like  a  fowl. 

One  morning  we  were  as  usual  expecting  "  Count  Boruwlaski,'* 
as  we  had  called  him  from  his  diminutive  size  (he  was  a  short 
period  after  his  accustomed  time)  ;  my  husband  was  just  going 
to  look  after  his  little  guest,  when  lo  !  in  he  marched  bleeding, 
with  one  wing  nearly  off  and  dragging  upon  the  ground.  He 
seemed  to  say,  I  have  escaped  from  the  murderer  to  come  and 
die  amongst  my  friends.  The  poor  little  creature  had  evidently 
been  attacked  in  his  roosting-place  by  a  rat,  and  escaped  with 
this  severe  hurt. 

Aid  was  called  in,  and  soon  our  poor  little  favourite's  wing  was 
bound  up,  and  he  proceeded  to  gather  his  customary  crumbs  of 
comfort,  and  notwithstanding  every  attempt  to  wean  him  from 
his  chosen  bed  of  leaves,  he  continued  to  occupy  it  at  night.  Sad 
to  say,  after  a  few  days,  just  as  his  wounds  had  been  successfully 
medicined,  the  ruthless  invader  again  assailed  him  ;  and  when  we 
sought  the  little  victim,  only  a  few  of  his  feathers  remained  to 
tell  his  mournful  end !  My  husband's  spirits  were  so  upset  at 
this  domestic  tragedy,  that  he  neither  ate  nor  spoke  the  rest  of 
the  day,  and  at  night  his  audience  suffered  in  proportion.  The 
moment  he  returned  he  went  again  to  the  fatal  spot,  as  if  still 
in  hopes  to  find  his  little  favourite,  and  retired  to  bed  silent  and 
depressed,  without  his  usual  reading. 

It  is  very  rare  when  favourites  of  this  kind  die  in  an  ordinary 
way.  Tamed  and  apart  from  their  kind,  their  instincts  are 
weakened,  and  some  shocking  and  premature  end  generally  overr 
takes  them,  though  they  may  still  be  said  to  die  a  natural  death, 
as   I   heard   Mr.  Colman   once  observe   to   be   the   case  with 


C^IARLES  MATHEWS.  361 

Madame  Sacqui  when  she  fell  off  the  rope  and  was  said  to  he 
kiUed. 

To  the  Rev.  Thomas  Speidell. 

Kentish  Town,  January  19tli,  1831. 

My  dear  Speidell,— Rather  than  allow  another  day's  delaj'  in 
reply  to  your  kind  letter,  I  will  write  a  hurried  answer  in  preference  to 
none.  Briefly, — Charles  returned,  the  most  exaggerated  case  of  paraly- 
sis on  record — a  voice  only  to  indicate  that  the  corpse  was  animated. 
Streatfield  could  not  magnify  it.  An  attached  gem  of  an  Italian  servant 
brought  him  home,  like  a  portmanteau  or  any  other  piece  of  goods.  In 
spirits  good,  but  even  crutches  would  not  support  his  enfeebled  frame.^ 
I  had  four  medical  men ;  they  all  agreed  that  it  was  the  remains  of 
malaria,  and  that  he  would  recover  without  their  aid.  Judge  our  sur- 
prise and  delight  and  gratitude  to  God. 

This  will  satisfy  you,  I  know,  and  you  will  excuse  a  longer  detail.  I 
really  hope  and  believe  he  will  be  able  to  dance  by  the  end  of  February.* 
His  mother  is  now  well,  and  has  borne  herself  like  a  true  woman  (not 
in  the  worldly  sense).  I  need  not  say  how  her  time  has  been  devoted ; 
and  the  sufferer  always  felt  faith  that  home  and  mother  would  restore 
him.  The  leeches  at  Venice  had  condemned  him  to  winter  at  Venice.f 
He  called  his  servant:  "Nanini,"  said  he,  "put  this  body  into  a  carriage 
and  convey  it  to  England."  Resolution,  eh  ?  We  all  desire  heartfelt 
thanks  for  your  attention,  and  love  to  Mrs.  Jellicoe. 

-Ever  sincerely  yours,         C.  Mathews. 


To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Bath,  January  28th,  1831. 
I  am  remarkably  well,  though  last  night  I  worked  like  a  horse, — two 
hours  at  "  Table,"  "  May  Queen,"  and  "  Before  Breakfast."  The  night 
I  arrived  I  went  to  see  Kean,  who  was  playing  to  empty  benches.  From 
the  weather,  and  beginning  on  January  1st,  I  was  alto^ther  in  despair; 
but  I  am  more  than  content.  It  is  a  great  gratification  to  me  to  find 
myself  supported  by  the  people  whose  opinion  alone  is  worth  listening 
to.  The  upper  orders  follow  me.  Had  you  heard  the  croaking  about 
the  state  of  property  here,  you  would  think  highly  of  what  I  have 
done. 

CM. 

In  the  year  1807  or  1808,  Mr.  Godwin  called  upon  Mr. 
Mathews.  He  entertained  a  great  admiration  of  him  in  public, 
he  said,  and  not  having  any  mutual  friend  to  introduce  him,  he 

*  This  sanguine  feeling  was  not  justified  by  the  result ;  Charles  was  carried 
about  in  the  arms  of  his  servant  for  many  months  after  this,  and  had  not  dis- 
carded his  crutches  five  months  after  the  above  account. 

t  Charles  was  six  months  in  bed  at  Venice,  and  nearly  the  same  period  in 
England. 


S62  THE  LIFE  AND  COERESPONDENCE  OF 

had  ventured  upon  the  present  mode  rather  than  not  become 
acquainted  with  him.  From  this  time  they  met  occasionally. 
Mr.  Godwin  had  often  witnessed  Mr.  Mathews's  power  of  per- 
sonation, and  just  before  Mr.  Godwin's  last  novel,  "  Cloudesly," 
was  published,  he  addressed  the  following  request  to  my 
husband : — 

To  Charles  Mathews,  Esq. 

No.  44,  Gower-place,  February  14tli. 
My  dear  Sie, — I  am  at  this  moment  engaged  in  writing  a  work  of 
fiction,  a  part  of  the  incidents  of  which  will  consist  in  escapes  in  dis- 
guises. It  has  forcibly  struck  me  that,  if  I  could  be  indulged  in  the 
pleasure  of  half  an  hour's  conversation  with  you  on  the  subject,  it  would 
furnish  me  with  some  hints,  which,  beaten  on  the  anvil  of  my  brain, 
would  be  of  eminent  service  to  me  on  the  occasion.  Would  you  conde- 
scend to  favour  me  in  making  the  experiment? — the  thing  will  not 
admit  of  delay. — I  am,  dear  Sir,  with  great  respect,  yours, 

William  Godwin. 

An  early  day  was  appointed,  and  Mr.  Godwin  dined  at  the 
cottage.  He  was  anxious  not  to  shame  probability  in  his  work, 
and  requested  to  have  his  memory  of  the  past  refreshed  as  to  the 
power  of  destroying  personal  identity.  Mr.  Mathews,  of  course, 
satisfied  him  upon  the  point  by  several  disguises.  Soon  after  he 
had  convinced  Mr.  Godwin  that  he  might  venture  to  assume 
such  a  power  of  deception  possible  in  his  own  plot,  a  gentleman 
(an  eccentric  neighbour  of  ours)  broke  in  upon  us  just  as  Mr. 
Godwin  was  expressing  his  wonder  at  the  variety  of  expression, 
character,  and  voice  of  which  Mr.  Mathews  was  capable.  We 
were  embarrassed,  and  Mr.  Godwin  evidently  vexed  at  the  in- 
truder. However,  there  was  no  help  for  it ;  the  servant  had 
admitted  him,  and  he  was  introduced  in  form  to  Mr.  Godwin. 
The  moment  Mr.  Jenkins  (for  such  was  his  name)  discovered 
the  distinguished  person  he  had  so  luckily  for  him  dropped  in 
upon,  he  was  enthusiastically  pleased  at  the  event,  talked  to  Mr. 
Godwin  about  all  his  works,  inquired  about  the  forthcoming 
book — in  fact,  bored  him  through  and  through.  At  last  the 
author  turned  to  my  husband  for  refuge  against  this  assault  of 
admiration,  and  discovered  that  his  host  had  left  the  room.  He 
therefore  rose  from  his  seat,  and  approached  the  window  leading 
to  the  lawn,  Mr.  Jenkins  officiously  following,  and  insisting  upon 
opening  it  for  him,  and  while  he  was  urging  a  provokingly 
obstinate  lock,  the  object  of  his  devoted  attention  waited  behind 
him  for  release.  The  casement  at  length  flew  open,  and  Mr. 
Godwin,  passing  the  gentleman  with  a  courteous  look  of  thanks, 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  363 

found,  to  his  astonishment,  that  Mr.  Jenldns  had  disappeared, 
and  that  Mr.  Mathews  stood  in  his  place ! 

Mr.  Godwin  returned  home  satished,  and  soon  after  finished 
the  last  volume  of  "  Cloudesly,"  wherein  may  be  found  the  result 
of  his  visit — the  last  we  were  destined  to  receive  from  this  re- 
markable and  interesting  man. 

To  the  Rev.  Thomas  Speldell. 

Chester,  August  2ud,  1831. 

Mr  DEAR  Speidell, — Though  I  could  not  manage  to  give  you  a 
benefit  on  my  way  to  Liverpool,  I  think  I  shall  patronise  you  on  my 
return.  The  fact  is,  Charles,  and  Mamma,  and  I  spent  nine  days  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  Southampton,  and  I  found  a  remarkably  good  convey- 
ance from  thence  to  Liverpool  via  Cheltenham,  by  a  coach  called 
Hirondelle,  which  is  converted  into  Iron  Devil.  I  therefore  did  not 
get  into  your  track  at  all.  I  am  going  for  three  or  four  days  to  Wales, 
to  visit  Mr.  Owen  Williams,  M.P.  for  Marlow,  and  an  anti-Reformer. 
The  probable  time  of  my  visit  to  you  will,  therefore,  be  the  week  begin- 
ning with  the  15th  ofAugust. 

You  will  be  pleased  to  hear  that  dear  Charles  surprised  his  mother 
and  me  by  meeting,  or  rather  running  to  us,  without  a  stick,  as  nearly 
well  as  possible,  on  the  4th  of  July,  after  spending  a  month  at  Wootton- 
under-Edge.  I  have  no  doubt,  by  the  time  I  return,  to  find  him  as 
well  as  ever.     Thank  God  for  such  a  blessing  ! 

C.  Mathews. 

Direct  to  Craig  y  dor,  Anglesea. 

Mr.  Mathews,  with  Mr.  Yates,  opened  the  Adelphi  Theatre 
on  Monday,  April  18th,  1831,  with  the  following  announce- 
ment : — 

ME.  MATHEWS 
Will  have  the  honour  to  publish  the  Second  Volume  of  his 
COMIC  ANNUAL, 

In  one  Part,  embeUished  with  new  designs  and  humorous  cuts.* 

Exordium. — Dr.  Johnson's  Preface  to  his  Dictionary. — Recipe,  "  How 
to  prepare  an  Entertainment  for  a  large  party." — First  Sketch. — Fat 
Mr.  Waglington. — Hunting  in  a  single-horse  chair. — Pleasures  of  the 
Chase. — Mr.  Waghngtou's  poesy. 

Song — "  London  Mxhihitions — 1830-31." 

Nathaniel  Nagg,  a  grumbling  footman. — Mrs.  Euphemia  Blight,  one 
who  depreciates  friends'  relations.— Mr.. Littlemiff. — Rights  ol"  Man. — 
'The  Curses  of  Street-music. — General  Postman. — Dennis  Croagh,  a 
Lover  of  Law. 

Song — "  Armagh  Assizes." 

*  By  Messi-s.  Peake  and  Charles  J.  Mathews. 


364  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

Country  Manager's  distress. — Master  Scuggs  with  the  scarlet  fever. 
— A  substitute  for  Young  Norval  (with  a  beautiful  figure  embellished 
by  Shakspeare  and  Shield). — Shop-board  disquisition  and  sheer  critical 
opinions  on  the  Poets  of  Ireland  and  Scotland. — Historical  subject. — 
Lieutenant-general  Sir  Hildebrand  Hookah's  dictation  to  three  aides- 
de-camp  at  one  time,  with  whole-lengths  of  Major  Mangoe,  Captain 
Jungle,  and  Ensign  Hectic. — The  Result. — Padding  to  the  Bank. 

Song — The  Omnibus, 

After  which  will  be  represented,  for  the  first,  second,  and  third  times, 
an  entirely  new  monopolylogue  entertainment,  in  one  act,  with  new 
music,  scenes,  dress,  &c.  called 

Yates  in  Italy,  or  the  JBeautiful  JBarmaid. 

Jiladame  Pompeydoor, — Locandiera  of  the  Aquila  di  due  Testa 
(Swan  with  Two  Necks),  at  Portici,  a  French  landlady  with  a  knowledge 
of  the  English  language, — Mr.  Yates, 

Lord  Phidias  Crachstone, — a  celebrated  virtuoso  member  of  the 
Dilettante  and  Travellers'  Club,  making  excavations  in  Herculaneum 
and  Pompeii  in  search  of  the  antique  and  beautiful.  Professor  of  the 
"  Unique  Le'^"  hitherto  without  2i  fellow,  and  proprietor  in  toto  of  the 
matchless /bo^,  a  great  stickler  for  correct  proportions, — Mr.  Yates. 

Signor  Thomaso  JacJcsonnini, — an  Anglo-Italian,  formerly  of  Alley, 
now  Ballerino  Principale  at  the  Teatro  San  Carlos  at  Naples,  taking 
steps  to  mend  his  fortunes,  and  favoured  by  Catterina, — Mr.  Yates. 

Signora  Catterina, — ward  of  Madame  Pompeydoor,  "  La  Bella 
Ostessa,"  the  beautiful  hostess  of  the  Swan  with  Two  Necks,  attracting 
travellers  to  her  bar  by  an  indescribable  fascination  and  undeveloped 
attraction  ;  courted  by  Lord  Phidias,  Sir  Sturgeon,-  Captain  Cloudesly, 
and  Beau  Flaniinirton,  but  attached  to  Jacksonriini  by  the  ties  of  Rossini 
and  a  fine  calf, — Mr.  Yates. 

Sir  Sturgeon  Garrett, — Ex-Mayor  of  Wandsworth,  an  amateur 
legislator  in  search  of  a  new  system  of  punishment  for  the  improvement 
of  the  lower  orders, — Mr.  Yates. 

Fra  Dlavolo, — genuine  as  exported  from  Terracina,  in  search  of  the 
exposed  and  seizable, — Mr.  Yates. 

Terence  Gossoon, — an  Irish  cicerone,  attached  to  thecrata,  and  other 
propensities, — Mr.  Yates. 

JBeau  Flamington, — a  retired  dandy^  ci-devant  leader  of  the  haut 
ton,  seeking  the  Baths  of  Portici  to  amend  a  pecuniary  decline, — Mr. 
Yates. 

Captain  Cloudesly  Ogle, — advocate  for.  the  non-intervention  system, 
practising  diplomacy  on  a  small  scale, — Mr.  Yates. 

The  monopolylogue  will  conclude  with  the  Engine-mow?,  denouement 
of  the  characters  making  the  house  too  hot  to  hold  them. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  365 

To  conclude  with  a  novel  entertainment,  a  Diapolylogue,  to  be  called 

Nos.  26  and  27,  or  Next  Door  Neighbours* 

Mathews  and  Yates  will  sustain  the  following  dramatis  personce  : — 

Tim  Wasp, — a  pertinacious  cobbler. 
Mr.O' Rapparee, — an  Irish  member  of  society  (involved). 
Poker, — returning  officer  for  the  King's  Bench. 
Phelim  M'  Quill, — clerk  to  tlie  London  Expectoration  Office. 
Miss  Mildew, — a  faded  virgin  white,  beside  herself. 
Mrs.  BanJcington  Bomhnsin, — an  imaginary  proprietress  in  mourn- 
ing affiiirs,  and  head  deranged. 

Mr.  Capsicum, — a  Trinidad  merchant. 

Cleopatra, — his  Negro  nurse. 

Miss  Capsicum, — in  love  with  O'Rapparee. 

Old  File, — last  of  London  watchmen. 

Mr.  Cmsar  le  Blond, — a  black  Adonis. 

Properties^ — a  little  dark-coloured  pledge  of  affection,  &c.  &c. 

It  is  necessary,  in  order  to  understand  some  of  the  subsequent 
letters,  to  explain  that  when  Charles  quitted  Venice  a  helpless 
cripple,  he  was  accompanied  by  an  Italian  servant,  one  who  had 
never  been  in  service  before,  and  who  had,  during  the  four  years 
he  attended  upon  him,  conceived  such  a  devoted  attachment  to 
his  master,  that  when  Charles  determined  to  return  to  England, 
Carlo  Nanini  declared  his  readiness  to  attend  him,  merely  to 
see  him  safely  there,  and  then  rejoin  his  wife  and  children  in 
Italy. 

This  interesting  being  after  his  arrival  soon  became  extremely 
attached  to  Mr.  Mathews  and  myself,  and  was  so  delighted  with 
England,  that  but  for  the  conscript  law,  which  forbade  his  boys 
their  freedom,  he  would  have  summoned  them  and  their  mother 
to  this  country,  and  settled  in  it  for  the  rest  of  his  life.  This 
could  not  be,  and  so  he  agreed  ofily  to  remain  while  his  services 
were  valuable  to  his  "  dear  Signer  Carlo,'*  then  pay  a  visit  to 
his  family  for  a  few  months,  and  afterwards  return  to  us  for 
three  years  more.  To  those  who  saw  Nanini  I  need  not  describe 
his  excellent  qualities,  his  talents,  his  graceful  manner  to  all,  and 
especial  devotion  to  our  family.  He  was  beloved  by  everybody 
in  proportion  as  they  knew  him,  and  he  was  made  known  to 
everybody.  My  husband  was  extremely  attached  to  him.  Al- 
though his  origin  was  of  the  humblest,  he  was  in  effect  a 
gentleman.     He  had  the  most  perfect  tact,  with  a  most  extra- 

*  The  whole  of  the  above  piece  was  omitted  after  the  first  night,  except  the 
character  of  Tim  Wasp,  one  of  Mr.  Mathews's  finest  representations,  and 
which  was  detached  from  the  drama. 


866  THE  LIFE  AND  CORKESPONDENCE  OF 

ordinary  capacity,  possessing  in  himself  much  talent  and  humour, 
with  a  most  remarkable  perception  of  it  in  others.  He  scarcely 
knew  a  sentence  of  English,  yet  understood  everybody's  meaning. 
He  was  beloved  by  the  servants  ;  and  such  was  his  mildness,  that 
he  never  excited  envy  or  anger  from  those  who  were  not  equally 
taken  notice  of.  They  seemed,  indeed,  tacitly  to  admit  his 
superiority.  He  had  been  with  us  nearly  a  year.  Charles,  whom 
he  had  carried  about  the  house  for  nearly  six  months  after  his 
return  to  England,  had  in  November  become  sufficiently  restored 
to  proceed  to  Brighton,  and  Nanini  was  of  course  to  accompany 
him  there ;  but  it  was  observable  on  the  day  before  the  journey 
that  something  ailed  him,  and  after  a  struggle,  he  consented  to 
remain  at  the  cottage  until  he  was  better,  when  he  might  follow 
his  master.  From  that  moment  he  visibly  declined,  and  took  to 
his  bed  at  the  end  of  a  week.  I  grew  alarmed,  although  the 
apothecary  declared  his  complaint  to  be  of  no  consequence,  and 
that  it  proceeded  from  cold.  I  felt  dissatisfied,  however,  and 
called  in  Dr.  Paris,  who  immediately  declared  him  to  be  in  a 
dangerous  state.  Notwithstanding  this,  his  first  prescription 
relieved  the  sufferer. 

Another  week  had  nearly  passed,  when  one  morning  at  day- 
break I  was  summoned  to  Nanini's  bedside.  He  had  said  that 
his  eyesight  was  leaving  him,  and  begged  to  look  at  "  Madame" 
for  the  last  time.  He  then  took  a  most  affecting  leave  of  me, 
thanked  me  for  all  my  kindness,  left  affectionate  messages  to  his 
•'dear  Signor  Carlo"  and  Mr.  Mathews,  and  closing  his  eyelids, 
dropped  his  head  upon  my  arm,  and  appearing  to  sleep,  resigned 
his  spirit  without  a  pang ! 

On  the  first  positive  intimation  of  his  immediate  danger,  I 
had  sent  an  express  to  Brighton  for  Charles.  Alas !  a  second 
was  soon  after  despatched  to  tell  him  that  his  journey  would 
be  unavailing,  and  that  his  servant  and  friend  had  left  him 
for  ever. 

I  had,  agreeably  to  the  expressed  wish  of  Nanini,  to  have  his 
mysterious  disorder  ascertained,  caused  a  post-mortem  examina- 
tion to  take  place,  and  Mr.  Mayo  discovered  the  cause  of  his 
sufferings  and  death  to  have  been  an  insidious  inflammation, 
which  no  human  skill  could  have  reached,  even  had  the  nature 
of  his  illness  been  known  during  life.  Tt  was  supposed  that  the 
cause  of  his  death  had  existed  for  more  than  six  months,  al- 
though it  was  not  materially  felt,  or  not  acknowledged,  by  the 
sufferer  until  the  crisis,  which  came  on  only  a  fortnight  before 
he  died. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  367 

On  the  first  intimation  of  Nanini's  precarious  state,  a  neigh* 
bouring  friend  wrote  to  prepare  mj  husband  for  the  fatal  result, 
to  which  I  added  a  page  with  some  particulars.  To  this  letter 
the  following  is  a  reply. 

To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Lincoln,  Nov.  18th,  1831. 

I  should  have  written  yesterday  had  not  your  promise  of  writing 
again  on  Thursday  induced  me  to  wait.  I  am  so  thoroughly  stricken  to 
the  heart  by  the  melancholy  intelligence  in  your  last,  that  I  cannotrally. 
Neither  reading  nor  any  other  pursuit  can  divert  my  mind  from  the 
all-engrossing  subject.  I  shall  never  think  of  it  without  a  pang  during 
my  lil'e ;  but  in  a  miserable  inn,  the  hulk-like  mirth*  and  shouting  of 
some  hundreds  here  for  a  county  reform  meeting ;  and  having  to  perlbrm 
to-night,  I  must  not  trust  mj'self  to  dwell  upon  the  subject.  I  have 
never  been  more  truly  afflicted,  and  my  audience  (only  a  few,  I  am 
sorry  to  say,)  suffered  by  my  having  opened  the  letter  before  the  per- 
formance. Had  it  been  in  your  handwriting,  I  had  determined  to  keep 
it  unopened  till  next  morning;  but  a  strange  hand  and  no  post-mark 
induced  me  to  open  it,  and  sadly  I  was  repaid  for  my  curiosity,  though 
I  had  anticipated  the  worst. 

Believe  me,  my  heart  bleeds  for  you.  C.  M. 


To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Boston,  November  21st,  1831. 

On  my  arrival  hero  last  night,  I  found  both  3'our  letters,  much  to  my 
relief,  for  when  the  third  day  passed  I  conjectured  some  additional  blow 
to  my  peace.  I  shall  not  trust  myself  to  write  upon  our  irreparable 
loss.  It  has  cost  me  pangs  enough,  and  I  feel  it  my  duty  to  think  of 
any  or  every  subject  rather  than  that.  I  sobbed  over  your  letters  last 
night  until  I  was  ill.  My  feeling  for  Charles,  and  the  picture  in  my 
mind's  eye  of  the  funeral,  and  the  poor  boy's  grief,  upset  me.  But, 
as  you  sa}'-,  he  is  happier  than  we  are,  that's  certain.  God's  will  be 
done ! 

I  am  at  Boston,  in  England,  I  believe ;  but  the  resemblance  to  the 
American  of  selfsame  name  is  perfect  in  one  thing.  It  was  there  I  en- 
countered the  severe  frost.  I  had  to  walk  half  a  mile  after  dark,  sup- 
ported by  my  manager,  first,  over  frozen  barges  and  boats,  and  then  we 
slid  to  the  inn.  The  canal  and  river  were  so  frozen  here  that  we  were 
soothed  by  the  assurance  when  we  started,  that  we  should  be  impeded 
by  the  ice  ;  luckily  the  boat  from  hence  went  at  eight,  and  we  at  eleven 
o'clock,  therefore  they  "  broke  the  ice"  for  us. 

I  am  delighted  poor  dear  Charles  has  gone  back  to  Brighton.     If  I 

*  It  was  his  usual  method  of  describing  a  state  of  forced  and  boisterous 
excitement  to  compare  it  with  the  desperate  mirth  of  convicts,  to  drown  their 
care. 


'366  THE  LIFE  AND  COKRESPONDENCE  OF 

had  been  cheered  by  your  saying,  "lam  going  with  him,"  it  would 
have  sent  me  to  bed  in  a  tranquil  state.  How  he  could  consent  to  go 
without  you  will  yet  be  explained.  You  ought  not  to  have  remained. 
It  was  a  duty  to  yourself  to  have  quitted  home  for  a  time. 

I  don't  think  I  shall  get  home  until  about  the  3rd  or  4th  of  December. 
Get  thee  to  Brighton,  and  let  me  find  you  there.  I  love  and  adore 
you  for  your  kindness  and  devotion,  and  more  for  your  suffering  for 
Nanini. 

CM. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  369 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

Mr.  Mathews  and  family  at  Brighton — His  performances  at  the  Pavilion — 
Letter  to  Mr.  Peake :  illiberal  exclusion  from  the  Beef-steak  Club — Letter 
to  Mr.  Gyles,  containing  a  summary  of  Mr.  Mathews's  feelings  and  circum- 
stances at  the  commencement  of  1832 — Mr.  Mathews's  Comic  Annual  for 
1832 — Mr.  Mathews  in  his  **  private  box"  at  the  House  of  Commons — Effect 
of  his  presence  on  several  of  the  members — Singular  nocturnal  adventure: 
an  escaped  felon — A  painful  accident — Paganini  and  Mr.  Mathews  at  South- 
ampton— Mr.  Mathews's  performance  at  Portsmouth — Another  accident — 
Letters  to  Mrs.  Mathews — Mr.  Mathews's  fondness  for  the  brute  creation — 
The  Duke  of  Wellington  and  Mr.  Mathews  in  the  Zoological  Gardens — A 
Newfoundland-dog — A  stray  goat. 

I2^  December,  Mr.  Mathews  joined  Charles  and  myself  at 
Brighton, — his  refuge  and  solace  under  mental  as  well  as  bodily 
suffering.  He  was  heart-sick,  as  indeed  we  all  were,  at  the  loss 
of  poor  Nanini,  and  we  felt  the  comfort  of  a  release  from  home 
and  social  claims.  Here  we  could  do  as  we  liked, — be  alone  or 
otherwise,  which  I  take  to  be  one  of  the  greatest  benefits  de- 
rived from  such  a  place,  where  the  mind  is  wounded  or  the  body 
delicate. 

My  husband  felt  the  beneficial  effects  on  both  in  a  few  weeks, 
of  which  the  succeeding  letter,  written  after  experiencing  the 
exhilarating  effects  of  the  sea-breeze  upon  his  constitution,  will 
give  evidence.  I  will  introduce  it  with  the  following  notice 
which  appeared  at  the  time : — 

*'  Mathews  entertained  the  company  at  the  Pavilion  last  night  with 
selections  from  his  various  entertainments,  which  his  Majesty,  and  the 
Princess  Augusta  in  particular,  relished  highI3^  This  great  master  of 
the  comic  art  was  afterwards  honoured  with  the  society  of  Lord  Errol 
and  Lord  Burghersh  at  his  supper-table  in  the  palace." 

To  Mr.  Feahe. 

Brighton,  Dec.  26th,  1831. 
Deae  Peake, — Merry  Christmas  and  a  happy  New  Year  to  thee  and 
thine. 

On  Friday,  William,  No.  4,  invited  me  to  the  Pavilion.     I  worked  at 

B  B 


870  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

the  two  annuals  for  three  hours  without  a  yawn — party  (almost,  if  not 
quite)  exclusively  of  nobility.  Everything  went  off  capitally,  and 
royalty  in  the  best  of  all  possible  humours.  It  was  really  good  fun,  and 
I  felt  it  so.  I  am  in  high  force, — sound  lungs  (alas  !  not  limbs),  capital 
spirits,  and  should  be  quite  happy ;  but  I  never  can  be  as  long  as 
Eichards  lives,  and  is  stout  upon  the  point,  as  he  told  me,  that  I  am 
excluded  by  my  profession  from  being  a  member  of  the  Beef-steak  Club. 
Will  this  be  believed  in  1845  ? 

Yours  ever,  C.  Mathews. 

Although  in  the  preceding  letter  to  Mr.  Peake  he  adverts  in 
a  playful  mood  to  his  non-admittance  as  a  member  of  the  Beef- 
steak Club,  he  felt  it  in  a  more  serious  manner ;  and  the  plea,  I 
think,  annoyed  him  more  than  the  exclusion  itself;  for,  as  he 
often  visited  it  (as  often,  indeed,  as  he  felt  disposed  to  accom- 
pany any  member),  he  never  could  be  satisfied  at  not  being  a 
member  himself.  Certainly  it  does  seem  extraordinary  that 
such  a  plea  as  Mr.  Mathews's  profession  should  have  been  as- 
signed as  a  reason  for  excluding  his  name  from  being  enrolled  in 
a  society  where  his  presence  was  universally  courted  and  hailed 
writh  pleasure.  No  other  profession  shared  this  invidious  ob- 
jection ;  lawyers,  authors,  painters,  nay,  managers,  were  freely- 
admitted  as  members,  and  why  not  a  first-rate  actor  ?  In  this 
liberal  and  enlightened  age  it  is  hardly  conceivable  that  a  gen- 
tleman in  one  profession  should  not  be  as  much  honoured  in 
such  a  club  as  the  member  of  any  other ;  and  I  could  never 
understand  why  we  should  not  respect  a  man  who  acts  well  as 
much  as  one  who  paints  well.  Each  "  holds  the  mirror  up  to 
nature."  With  regard  to  the  theatrical  profession  itself,  I  am 
not  competent  to  say  anything  that  can  raise  it  more  than  the 
encouragement  the  highest  of  our  intellectual  and  moral  autho- 
rities have  already  done.  Next  to  the  pulpit,  the  British  stage 
is  the  best  school  for  general  improvement ;  for,  as  it  has  been 
well  observed,  "  we  are  there  humanized  without  suffering ;  we 
become  acquainted  with  the  manners  of  nations,  acquire  a  polisb 
without  travelling,  and  wdthout  the  trouble  of  study  imbibe 
the  most  pleasing,  the  most  useful  of  lessons."  * 

The  members  of  this  club  were  individually  persons  who  pa- 
tronized the  drama,  and  respected,  even  courted  my  husband, 
there,  as  well  as  in  their  own  houses ;  they  therefore  denied  him 
and  themselves  a  gratification,  in  order  to  maintain  some  ancient 
prejudice  which  had  become  a  rule ;  and  these  very  persons,  who 
selected  their  motto  from  the  writings  of  a  "poor  player,"  were 

*  Aaron  Hill. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  871 

persistingly  adverse  to  admit  one  of  the  most  respectable  of  his 
craft  into  their  brotherhood.  "  Will  this,"  as  he  asks,  "  be 
believed  in  1845  ?" 

The  following  letter  will  be  found  to  contain  an  affecting 
summary  of  the  writer's  feelings  and  circumstances  at  this 
period : — 

To  K.  B.  Gyles,  Esq. 

Kentish  Town,  Feb.  1st,  1832. 

My  deae  Gyles, — You  begin  in  your  last  by  talking  of  my  "  reso- 
lute silence."  If  I  had  an  opportunity  of  explaining  in  person  instead 
of  writing,  which  I  abhor,  I  do  flatter  myself  I  could  justify  myself  in 
your  opinion,  and  you  would  only  wonder  that  I  am  disposed  to  write 
at  all,  when  I  am  not  compelled.  I  was  absent  from  home  until  the 
last  fortnight,  from  the  beginning  of  October.  I  have  been  making  a 
Yorkshire  tour.  On  those  occasions  I  am  compelled  to  forbid  all  letters 
being  sent  after  me :  my  wife  opens,  and  answers  all  that  are  really 
material.  On  my  return,  I  found  my  home  deserted ;  affliction  had  sat 
heavily  on  my  wife,  and  she  and  Charles  had  fled  to  Brighton.  I  had 
notice  of  it  only  in  time  to  prevent  my  going  home.  This  was  in 
December.  I  passed  through  London  without  coming  here.  My  poor 
wife  had  suffered  two  severe  blows  during  my  absence  :  my  brother-in- 
law  destroyed  himself  and  a  considerable  part  of  my  property  at  the 
same  time ;  and  the  attached  friend,  rather  than  servant,  of  my  son, 
sickened,  lingered,  and  died  in  our  cottage  !  My  son  was  too  ill  to 
bear  the  afflicting  intelligence.  She  knew  my  attachment  to  the  glorious 
kind-hearted  Italian,  and  that  I  should  be  unfit  for  exertion  if  I  were 
aware  of  his  danger.  She  therefore  contented  herself  by  doing  all  that 
could  be  done  to  soothe  him.  She  shared  the  nursing,  night  and  day, 
with  the  female  servants,  clinging  to  the  adage,  that  while  there  is  life 
there  is  hope,  until  the  fiat  of  the  physician  dissipated  all  hopes.  Charles 
was  sent  for,  but  too  late.  He  only  had  the  melancholy  satisfaction  of 
following  to  the  grave  one  of  the  most  interesting  of  all  human 
creatures  that  ever  lived — one  to  whom  he  owed  his  own  life — and  who 
volunteered,  when  Charles  was  more  helpless  than  an  infant,  to  leave 
his  native  countrj'-,  wife,  and  children,  to  "  render  him"  (to  use  his  own 
words)  *'  into  the  arms  of  his  beloved  mother."  I  state  without  hesi- 
tation that  our  boy  must  have  died  bad  he  remained  in  Italy;  and  he 
states,  as  distinctly,  that  had  not  the  lamented  Nanini  accompanied  him, 
he  never  could  have  dared  to  venture  home  in  a  paralytic  state,  not  to 
be  understood  as  to  extent,  or  believed  without  witnessing  it.  You 
cannot  wonder,  then,  after  three  years'  knowledge  of  one  of  the  most 
faithful  of  mortals,  and  feeling,  independently  of  his  fun,  his  various 
talents  for  a  companion,  who  had  watched  Charles  nightly  and  daily  for 
one  year  of  the  time  when  he  could  not  lift  his  hand  even  to  feed  him- 
self— what  must  be  the  agonizing  recollection  that  he  probably  lost  his 
life  in  preserving  ours — for  we  only  lived  in  the  hopes  of  the  recovery 
of  our  dear  Charles,  who  arrived  apparently  a  corpse  at  our  gate,  voice 

B  B  2 


S72  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

alone  giving  indications  of  animation.  But  he  is  gone,  and  we  have 
not  yet  recovered  the  blow.  Nothing  in  my  recollection  ever  affected 
me  more.  Charles  forced  his  mother  from  the  house,  where  everything, 
animate  or  inanimate,  reminded  her  of  the  melancholy  scene  she  had 
witnessed,  and  wisely  took  her  to  Brighton,  forbidding  the  servants  to 
forward  any  letters  to  her,  or  acknowledge  any  had  arrived,  as  he 
determined  she  should  not  be  worried  by  any  cares.  Letters  of  friend- 
ship, business,  applications  for  "  orders  for  two  for  this  evening,"  bills, 
invitations  to  dinner,  new  farces,  translations  of  melodramas,  petitions 
from  beggars,  and  circulars  from  tradesmen,  therefore,  shared  one 
common  fate.  You  had,  therefore,  only  neighbour's  fare ;  and  your 
first  went  into  your  second,  and  your  second  went  into  a  hole,  and  there 
remained  until  I  returned.  You  may  suppose  what  a  scene  was  then 
presented.  I  have  been  writing  ever  since;  my  eyes  ache,  my  arm 
aches,  and  I  have  had  plent}"-  to  make  my  heart  ache.  Are  you 
answered  ?  Am  I  excused  ?  My  wife  begged  me  to  excuse  her,  as  she 
says  she  must  have  appeared  "very unkind  as  well  as  rude."  So  much 
for  defence.  You  little  thought  how  hard  you  would  hit  me  in  one 
part  of  your  letter ;  you  brought  bitter  tears  into  my  eyes,  and  made 
me  exclaim,  "I  prithee  do  not  mock  me!"  "Eetire!"  indeed— 
"  evening  of  Kfe" — "  repose."  These  friendly  wishes  as  to  the  means 
came  at  an  unlucky  period.  You  may  guess  at  my  expenditure  in 
living;  you  may  guess  that  sometimes  theatres  may  be  un prosperous  ; 
you  might  (but  who  thinks  on  such  subjects  when  determined  to  make 
a  neighbour  rich  or  poor  ?),  you  might  try  and  sum  up  what  Charles's 
stay  in  Italy,*  and  illness,  apparently  most  fatal,  in  a  foreign  countrj^ 
with  foreign  leeches  to  fee,  cost  me ;  the  cost  of  a  carriage  with  bed 
inside ;  posting  twelve  hundred  miles,  &c.  When  you  have  made  a 
calculation,  I  will  inform  you  in  addition,  that  a  distillery  company  cost 

me  800Z.  last  year ;  that  's  bankruptcy  cost  me  500^.  the  year 

before ;  that  on  the  same  day  of  the  autumn  of  last  year  I  had  ascer- 
tained on  the  spot  the  entire  loss  of  the  large  sum  I  had  embarked  in 
Welsh  iron  and  coal,  &c. ;  then  my  brother-in-law's  suicide.  (I  have 
had  my  trials,  my  dear  Gyles,  I  assure  you.)  The  interest  I  received 
from  him  was  no  trifling  portion  of  that  income,  which  for  seven  years 
to  come  I  cannot  gain  from  the  Adelphi.  All  these  staggering  blows 
so  nearly  floored  me,  that  I  began  to  look  about  me  for  all  that  was 
available  in  property.  Though  a  trifle,  I  looked  over  Mr.  Brough's 
affair.  If  you  are  in  a  condition  to  do  it,  I  wish  you  would  purchase 
it  back.  It  would  assist  me  now,  I  assure  you.  In  a  letter  of  yours, 
dated  February,  1826,  you  say,  "  however,  you  shall  have  no  trouble 
about  it,  and  I  hold  myself  accountable  to  you  for  the  uttermost 
farthing."  As  to  the  old  lady's  dying  before  me,  I  have  no  faith.f  It 
is  now  six  years  since  that  was  written :  I  am  not  ashamed  to  say  that 
it  would  serve  me  now. 

*  Four  years, 
t  TLe  aged  person  on  whose  life  the  bond  in  question  was  granted — she 
outlived  him. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  373 

Have  you  heard  that  Charles,  on  crutch- sticks,  lingered  on  Ross 
Bridge  in  hopes  of  seeing  you  emerge  from  your  cottage,  and  was 
contemplating  a  surprise,  when  he  was  informed  you  were  at  Chel- 
tenham ?  this  was  last  June.  You  never  mention  poor  Neptune.  I 
hope  he  is  safe.  Charles,  I  am  happy  to  say,  now  for  the  first  time 
exhibits  signs  of  returning  strength ;  Brighton  has  enabled  him  to 
throw  away  his  stick. 

Remember  us  all  kindly  to  your  wife  and  yourself,  and  all  yours  j  and 
be  assured,  notwithstanding  our  apparent  neglect,  that  I  am. 

Most  sincerely  yours,        Mathews. 

The  following  announcement  will  give  the  particulars  of  this 
year's  entertainment  at  the  Adelphi : — 

2nd  May. 
MR.  MATHEWS 

Has  published   the  Third  Volume  of   his 

COMIC  ANNUAL  FOR  1832.* 

Embellished  with  numerous  cuts,  eccentric  portraits,  and  various 
head  and  tail  pieces. 

PART  FIRST. 

Preface. — Eirst  Sketch. — Bachelor  Winhs. — Cold  Bath  and  over- 
flowing House. — Suspicious  Character. — Mr.  Anthony  Sillylynx  and 
his  Hibernian  housekeeper. — Infanticide. — Gross  mistake. — Turn  over 
a  new  leaf. — Song,  Morning  Lounges. — Portrait  from  life. — Boh 
Tenterhook. — Yorkshire  genius. — Intellectual  Ironmonger. — Black- 
letter  Brazier  and  talented  Tinman. — Advantages  of  cultivating  the 
mind. — Mr.  and  Mrs.  Masculine. — Effects  of  eating  a  hot  supper, 
and  of  reading  the  Sporting  Journal.  —  Sir  Griffith  Jenkins. — Welsh 
Fox-hunter. — Song,  Fox  Chase. — Bachelor  Winks  in  jeopardy. — 
Melancholy  Barber. — A  Shaving  clause. — American  acquaintance,  Mr. 
Joshua  Brandywine  Crackit. — Embark  for  France. — Dieppe  packet. 
— Scenic  embellishment. — Two  in  a  berth  (not  twins). 

PAST  SECOND. 

Portrait,  a  Dutch  original. — Mrs.  Oherfiachlich. — Art  versus 
Nature.  —  Perfection  in  petticoats.  —  School  for  Daughters.  —  Song, 
Modern  JEducation. — Itinerant  traders. — Love  in  a  Fish-basket,  and  a 
Heart  in  a  Hare-skin. — Street  Cries. — Interesting  dialogue  between 
Mrs.  Hogsback  and  Mary  Briggles. — Coming  to  a  stand. — Song, 
Hackney  Coach. — Original  sketch  from  the  ocean. — Tom  Piper,  a 
cruising  chronicle. — Mr.  Dozy  and  his  watch-dog  Busy. — Visit  in 
Lothbury. — Lots  of  Bargains. — Song,  Auction  Mart. 

*  The  joint  production  of  R.  B.  Peake,  Esq.,  and  Charles  J.  Mathews. 


874j-  the  life  and  correspondence  of 

PART  THIED  * 

A    monopolylogue,    to    be    entitled    the 
EDDYSTONE  LIGHTHOUSE. 

The  introductory  drop  of  the  ocean  painted  by  Mr.  Tomkins;  the 
section  of  the  interior  of  the  Lighthouse  painted  by  Messrs.  Tom- 
kins  and  Pitt  j  the  dresses  by  Mr.  Godbee. 

Dramatis  Personce. 

Donald  M'  Quaigh, —      )  Two    lighthouse  keepers,  whose  turn  it 

Adam  Child  (aged  90),f  \  is  to  be  relieved. 

Sally  Grogrum, — An  esteemed  bum-boat  woman. 

Bat  Owlet  )         The  two  light-keepers  who  come  from 

Tom  Merry  weather,  )  Plymouth  on  duty. 

Cockswain  of  the  shore-boat, — with  a  speaking  trumpet. 

The  whole  of  the  characters  to  be  represented  by  Mr.  Mathews,  &c.  &c. 

•  The  unvarying  kindness  of  the  Speaker  enabled  my  husband 
to  enjoy  one  of  his  greatest  delights,  namely,  the  debates  in  the 
House  of  Commons ;  where  he  was  accommodated  with  a  seat 
under  the  gallery,  passing  to  it  privately  and  without  difficulty 
through  the  Speaker's  house.  When  he  first  availed  himself  of 
this  privilege  many  an  eye  was  turned  upon  him,  with  some- 
thing like  an  inquiring  expression,  that  seemed  to  say,  "  Which 
of  us  do  you  want  r"'  But  Mr.  Mathews  alway  felt  that  he  was 
there  upon  honour,  admitted  as  a  private  man  ;  and  it  is  well 
known,  that  though  for  some  years  he  had  these  opportunities 
(and  who  will  say  he  could  not  have  turned  them  to  public 
use  ?),  he  was  never  known  to  introduce  one  imitation,  with 
the  exception  of  a  renewal  of  a  former  one  of  the  great  agitator, 
when  his  peculiar  voice  and  manner  was  not  known  in  England, 
and  without  any  personal  or  political  allusions.  When  he  first 
enjoyed  what  he  called  his  "  private  box"  in  the  House  of  Com- 
mons, he  was  visited  in  turn  by  numbers  of  those  who  were  the 
principal  actors  in  the  interesting  scene,  some  of  whom  would 
then  sound  him, — "  Here's  a  wide  field  for  you,  Mr.  Mathews," 
one  would  say.  Another  would  ask,  smilingly,  "I  hope  you 
mean  to  spare  me,  Mr.  Mathews?"  Some  would,  without  any 
attempt  at  pleasantry,  look  seriously  anxious  ;  and  not  until  a 
safe  time  had  passed  without  any  public  manifestation  of  an 
intention  to  break  in  upon  the  public  peace  of  certain  nervous 

*  By  R.  B.  Peake,  Esq. 
t  One  of  the  finest,  most  interesting,  and  pleasing  representations  of  exti\ »  ^ 
old  age  imaginable. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  875 

members,  were  all  easy  when  they  saw  him  seated  with  his 
acute  eyes  upon  them. 

On  these  occasions  he  never  took  his  watch,  lest  he  should  be 
tempted  to  look  at  it ;  and  in  order  that  there  should  be  no 
drawback  to  his  perfect  enjoyment,  he  would  not  return  home 
to  Kentish  Town,  but  was  accommodated  by  a  bachelor  friend, 
who  lived  at  Millbank,  with  a  bed,  and  whose  valet  had  to  sit 
up  for  his  master,  his  hours  being  generally  late.  All  this 
arrangement,  he  said,  gave  him  no  regret  at  keeping  people  up 
yawning  for  his  return  ;  a  circumstance  which  embittered  all  his 
enjo^^ment  when  it  happened. 

One  night,  or  rather  morning,  after  an  unusually  long 
debate  upon  some  very  interesting  subject,  Mr.  Mathews,  with- 
out knowing  the  hour,  left  St.  Stephen's.  His  long  sitting 
had  cramped  his  limbs,  and  rendered  his  lameness  very  painful ; 
he  therefore  proceeded  very  slowly  towards  his  place  of  rest. 
Everything  seemed  dead  and  still  as  he  crept  along  with  diffi- 
culty, holding  by  the  iron  railing  as  he  went,  for  he  had  no  stick 
with  him.  AH  at  once  he  heard  a  low  tinkling  sound  behind 
him, — he  stopped,  and  the  sound  ceased  also ;  again  he  pro- 
ceeded at  his  slow  pace,  and  again  the  sound  was  heard.  Its 
metallic  character  annoyed  him,  and  he  was  not  only  curious  to 
ascertain  whence  it  proceeded,  but  anxious  to  shape  his  own 
course  so  as  to  elude  the  tiresome  effect.  Still,  however,  the 
sound  seemed  regulated  by  his  motions,  as  if  it  were  a  part  of 
them ;  for  every  time  he  made  the  experiment  of  a  stop  it  im- 
mediately stopped  too,  and  as  soon  as  he  resumed  his  walk  so 
soon  was  the  clinking  noise  resumed.  The  morning  was  cloudy, 
and  objects,  except  quite  close,  not  easily  discerned.  However, 
as  he  could  not  but  suppose  that  whatever  caused  this  teasing 
and  persevering  accompaniment  to  his  steps  must  have  a  will 
and  power  to  direct  it  independently  of  him,  he  resolved  to  out- 
stay the  effect,  or  at  least  the  cause  of  such  effect,  and  leaned 
against  a  railing  determined  to  give  patience  reins.  The  noise 
again  ceased,  and  a  long  pause  of  unbroken  silence  followed. 
He  now  began  to  think  he  should  be  foiled  in  his  intention  of 
discovering  the  cause,  or,  perhaps,  that  this  mysterious  sound 
had  altered  its  course,  or  had  ceased  altogether.  It  was  very 
late,  and  beginning  to  be  nervous  lest  he  had  already  trespassed 
upon  his  friend's  kindness  by  outstaying  him,  and  so  keeping  his 
servant  up  later  than  his  master's  pleasure  required,  he  began 
once  mord  to  urge  his  uneven  steps,  when  again  the  mysterious 
sounds  were  heard.      At  this  he  was  in  despair,  and  exerted 


o76  THE  LIFE  AND  COERESPONDENCE  OF 

himself  to  proceed  at  something  approaching  a  rapid  pace ;  the 
clinking  became  quicker  in  proportion,  and  he  involuntarily  placed 
his  back  against  the  same  kind  of  resting-place  as  before,  and 
faced  suddenly  about,  when  all  was  once  more  silent.  But,  in  a 
minute  or  two,  the  metallic  sounds  were  to  be  heard  for  the  first 
time  while  he  was  inactive,  and  in  the  next  moment,  out  of  the 
dusk  of  the  atmosphere,  a  human  figure  came  close  up  to  him, 
rather  a  startling  circumstance  at  such  a  time  and  in  such  a 
place.  The  figure  then  paused,  and  in  mild  and  very  harmo- 
nious tones  observed,  "  I'm  afraid,  sir,  you  are  suffering  ?  you 
seem  in  pain."  Mr.  Mathews  replied,  "  No ;  I'm  rather  cramped 
by  long  sitting  in  the  House  of  Commons,  that's  all."  "  But 
you  seem  lame,  sir !" — "  Yes  ;  I  am,  rather,"  was  the  answer. 
"  Allow  me,  sir,  to  offer  you  my  aid  ;  I  too  have  come  from  the 
House  of  Commons,  and,  it  seems,  am  going  your  way.  It  will 
really  give  me  pleasure  to  see  you  safely  home  and  assist  you 
with  my  arm."  Mr.  Mathews  could  not  discern  whether  the 
person's  dress  w^as  that  of  a  gentleman  or  not ;  he  could  only 
perceive  that  he  wore  a  long  coat,  resembling  a  great-coat.  It 
was  hazardous  to  make  companionship  with  an  unknown,  un- 
seen person  ;  however,  the  kindness  of  his  proffer,  the  tone  of 
his  voice,  and,  perhaps,  more  than  all  this,  Mr.  Mathews's  in- 
firmity of  limb,  proved  powerfully  persuasive,  and  he  accepted 
the  offer  of  the  stranger's  arm,  who  kindly,  and  affectionately 
even,  pressed  him  to  lean  hard  and  not  spare  him,  assuring  him 
that  he  had  been  used  to  attend  an  invalid,  and  knew  how  to 
feel  for  one ;  above  all,  entreated  him  to  walk  as  slowly  as  he 
liked,  for  that  he  himself  was  in  no  haste.  Just  then  my  hus- 
band recommenced  his  course ;  and  lo  !  on  his  very  first  step, 
the  harassing  noise  was  once  more  audible.  He  stopped,  as  if 
irresolute.  The  man  mildly  inquired  whether  his  pain  had  re- 
turned. Mr.  Mathews  made  an  excuse  and  proceeded,  and  so 
did  the  noise.  In  a  minute  a  policeman  turned  the  corner,  and 
looking  at  the  wayfarers  wished  them  a  good-night.  My  hus- 
band fancied  that  his  companion  started  and  was  agitated,  and 
this  fancy  made  him  involuntarily  pause,  with  an  imperfect 
intention  of  asking  protection  of  the  policeman. — But  from 
what  ?  While  this  crossed  him  the  policeman  had  left  the  spot; 
his  companion  kindly  awaited  his  intimation  of  proceeding,  and 
on  they  walked— -sometimes  slow,  then  quicker — the  humane 
stranger  talking  loud  but  without  much  method,  as  my  husband 
hobbled  silently  by  his  side,  speculating  upon  the  probable 
termination  of  the  adventure.     Suddenly  a  lamp  gleamed  for  a 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  377 

moment  upon  them  as  they  passed  under  it ;  my  husband's  eyes 
were  cast  down  upon  the  way  his  steps  were  taking,  and  to  his 
infinite  horror  he  discovered  the  cause  of  the  noises  that  had  so 
puzzled  him — a  fetter  was  fastened  round  the  ankle  of  the 
stranger,  from  which  hung  a  bit  of  chain,  or  something  that 
had  been  broken  from  a  hold,  the  end  of  which  striking  against 
the  fetter  had  evidently  occasioned  the  clinking  noise  described  ! 
My  poor  husband  was  in  reality  arm-in-arm  with  an  escaped 
felon !  He  had  presence  of  mind,  however,  after  the  first  pres- 
sure which  the  discovery  induced  his  fingers  to  make  upon  the 
man's  arm  (and  which  drew  forth  an  anxious  inquiry  from  his 
supporter)  to  conceal  his  knowledge,  but  he  walked  a  little 
quicker,  anxious  to  end  the  adventure,  and  somewhat  in  doubt 
of  the  manner  in  which  it  might  please  his  new  friend  that  it 
should  end.  At  last  it  was  necessary  to  cross  the  road  to  the 
house,  and  the  man  asked,  in  some  trepidation,  "  Are  you  thea 
at  home,  sir  ?"  My  husband  replied  in  the  afiirmative,  and 
begged  not  to  trouble  him  to  cross  the  road  with  him  ;  but  the 
stranger's  courtesy  was  not  so  to  be  stinted,  and  he  carefully 
assisted  his  charge  to  the  door.  Mr.  Mathews  was  about  to 
thank  him  for  his  services,  and  to  offer  him  payment  for  them. 
Before  he  could  speak,  however,  or  put  his  hand  into  his  pocket 
for  the  purpose  of  giving  a  trifle  to  the  wretched  man,  he  darted 
away  from  the  door,  and  was  invisible,  and  noiseless  too,  in  a 
few  moments. 

My  husband's  manner  of  accounting  for  this  singular  adven- 
ture was,  that  this  person  was  of  course  anxious  to  proceed 
without  attracting  notice,  and  in  following  the  steps,  of  another 
he  calculated  that  his  own  whereabout  would  not  be  so  notice- 
able. The  frequent  halts  made  by  his  companion  in  advance 
naturally  made  him  timorous  of  proceeding,  until  at  last  finding 
lameness  or  illness  to  be  the  cause,  he  reasonably  conceived  the 
advantage  of  joining  himself  to  a  companion  who  so  obviously 
required  an  attendant,  and  thus  of  diverting  the  attention  of  the 
police  from  himself,  as  the  sound  which  necessarily  accompanied 
his  movements  would  not  be  so  distinct  while  talking  and  walking 
with  another  person  as  if  silent  and  alone.  It  was,  however,  a 
very  uncomfortable  situation  for  my  husband,  who  owned  that 
he  did  not  feel  altogether  valiant  under  the  expected  attack,  and 
the  consciousness  of  his  own  helpless  state  of  non-resistance.  We 
looked  carefully  in  the  next  day's  papers,  but  read  of  no  escaped 
criminal.  I  fear  that,  unfavourably  to  the  ends  of  justice,  we 
felt  a  hope  that  the  poor  fellow  had  not  been  retaken,  and  my 


378  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

husband  was  ever  after  vexed  that  he  had  not  been  allowed  to 
provide  the  poor  outcast  with  the  means  of  a  meal  or  two  in  his 
forlorn  plight.  Somehow,  he  could  not  believe  that  this  man 
had  committed  any  very  heinous  crime.  He  was  evidently  young, 
and  apparently  kind,  and  with  that  "  excellent  thing  in"  man  as 
well  as  "woman,"  a  soft-toned  voice,  which,  whether  we  will  or 
not,  makes  its  imperceptible  way  to  our  feelings. 

My  husband  never  went  abroad  without  something  odd  hap- 
pening to  him.  This  adventure,  however,  was  his  last  in  that 
neighbourhood,  for  whether  he  was  himself  timid,  or  only  yielded 
to  my  entreaties,  he  never  slept  at  Millbank  again,  but  always 
returned  home  after  the  debates. 

In  September  my  husband  was  invited  from  Holly-hill,  where 
we  were  staying  with  some  friends,  to  perform  a  few  nights  at 
Southampton  and  Portsmouth,  when,  by  a  fatality  that  seemed 
to  attend  him,  he  met  with  a  very  peculiar  as  well  as  painful 
accident.  Charles  and  I  had  preceded  him  one  evening,  after  a 
walk  upon  the  Platform,  to  our  lodgings,  by  his  desire,  in  order 
that  he  might  follow  us  more  leisurely  than  he  thought  we  liked 
to  walk.  In  a  few  minutes  Charles  was  beckoned  from  the 
room,  and  disappeared.  Suspecting  something  wrong,  I  inquired 
the  way  he  had  taken,  and  followed.  A  few  yards  from  the 
house  I  found  father  and  son  on  the  ground,  the  first  unable  to 
move  from  pain,  the  other  from  a  fainting  fit,  caused  by  the  sur- 
prise and  shock  of  seeing  his  father,  as  he  supposed,  dead.  The 
accident  was  occasioned  by  a  large  dog,  which  running  at  full 
speed  close  to  my  husband,  knocked  him  down  with  such  violence, 
that  he  remained  a  few  minutes  in  a  state  of  insensibility.  He 
was  raised  from  the  ground  by  the  persons  who  saw  the  acci- 
dent, and  when  restored  to  recollection,  was  able  to  describe 
his  place  of  residence.  On  being  conveyed  home,  a  surgeon 
was  sent  for,  and  it  \vas  found  that  he  had  severel}^  sprained  his 
ankle,  and  received  some  other  contusions  of  a  painful  nature. 

Notwithstanding  Mr.  Mathews's  state  of  suffering,  a  repre- 
sentation being  made  to  him  of  the  great  loss  his  failure  to  per- 
form on  the  stipulated  night  would  cause  a  not  flourishing 
management,  he  consented  to  be  carried  to  the  theatre  on  the 
evening  in  question,  where  he  was  propped  up  behind  his  table, 
and  I  was  told  (for  I  had  not  the  heart  to  witness  the  effort) 
performed  delightfully.  It  is  worthy  of  notice,  that  when  we 
arrived  at  Southampton,  we  found  Paganini  announced  to  per- 
form on  the  morning  of  the  evening  fixed  for  Mr.  Mathews's 
performance.     This  probable  disadvantage  to  the  latter  was  felt 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  379 

"by  the  great  musician,  who  sent  an  agreeable  friend  of  his*  to 
say  he  would  withdraw,  for  that  he  could  not  reconcile  to  him- 
self opposing  a  brother  artist,  especially  Mr.  Mathews,  pleasantly 
adding,  as  a  reason  for  mutual  consideration,  "  that  they  both 
performed  on  one  string.'''*  This  liberal  proposition  was  over- 
ruled by  my  husband,  and,  as  it  happened,  no  injury  resulted 
to  him  from  the  more  novel  attraction.  Paganini  (who  had 
seen  Mr.  Mathews  "At  Home"  in  his  London  season)  was 
always  most  friendly  to  him,  and  we  subsequently  often  met 
him  in  society. 

We  now  proceeded  to  a  friend's  house  in  the  Isle  of  Wight, 
where,  after  some  time,  the  bruised  and  shaken  invalid  felt  very 
much  relieved,  and  we  at  length  left  Puckaster,  with  an  inten- 
tion of  proceeding  home.  On  the  way  my  husband  was  pressed 
to  stop  at  Eastdene,  where,  soon  becoming  considerably  better, 
he  induced  Charles  and  myself  to  leave  him  and  go  home  on 
business  that  required  our  presence.  We  left  the  sufferer 
believing  him  to  be  in  a  fair  way  of  recovery.  Unfortunately, 
after  we  were  gone,  he  received  another  injury,  and  from  another 
dog !  Sitting  one  day  basking,  as  he  termed  it,  in  the  mid-day 
sun,  in  full  enjoyment  of  its  scorchhig  heat,  an  animal  with  whom 
he  had  been  in  the  habit  of  playing  formerly,  ran  frolicking  up 
and  jumping  against  his  now  weak  playmate,  knocked  him  ott 
the  seat  with  great  violence  upon  the  lawn,  spraining  his  right 
hand  severely,  and  injuring  his  already  suffering  ankle.  Being 
unable  to  rise  without  aid,  and  no  one  perceiving  what  had 
happened  for  some  time  afterwards,  he  was  found  lying  in  great 
agony.  This  additional  misfortune  rendered  him  again  as  help- 
less as  infancy.  His  host  being  obliged  to  leave  home,  Mr. 
Mathews,  after  a  few  days  passed  totally  in  solitude,  made  a 
great  effort  to  remove,  and  at  last  determined  to  return  to 
Holly-hill. 

To  Mrs.  Mathews, 

Holly-hill,  Saturday,  1832. 

I  am  progressing  satisfactorily,  but  slowly ;  ray  hand  is  nearly  well 
enough  to  bear  the  pressure  of  a  stick,  which  is  very  important.  I  have  to- 
day had  a  most  delightful  expedition,  without  the  slightest  injury  or  incon- 
venience. Three  hours  in  beautiful  sunshine  on  my  element.  How  did 
you  get  to  the  water-side  ?  you  say. — Guess,  again ; — give  it  up  ? — In 
a  wheelbarrow.  Fact !  And  when  I  come  home  remind  me  to  tell  you 
how  the  boatman  wheeled  me  that  used  to  wheel  Lady  Dundonald,  "  all 
about  these  um  grounds."  This  was  her  fancy.  Why,  he  could  not 
tell.     She  was  not  lame.f 

*  Mr.  Freeman, 
+  This  allusion  is  not  to  the  present  lady. 


380  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

I  am  afraid  I  shall  be  unpopiilar;  but  I  cannot  help  it,  and  you  wont 
be  angry.  Mark  my  words,  by  about  Wednesday  or  Thursday  next, 
when  you  are  a  little  reconciled — you  admire  beauty,  and  particularly 
miniature  beauty,  and  if  I  am  a  judge  you  will  be  more  than  reconciled 
— you  will  be  fondly  attached ;  and  if  you  could  fall  in  love  with  the 
little  beauty  of  last  year,  you  will  be  fascinated  now.  In  short,  you 
must  send  Fowler  on  Monday  at  six  o'clock,  or  a  little  before,  to  the 
Gloucester  Coffee-house,  Piccadilly,  to  the  Eed  Rover  Southampton 
coach,  and  he  will  see  Mrs.  Morton  and  her  two  sons,  one  of  whom  will 
deliver  the  prettiest  white  kitten  in  Christendom.  Wait  till  you  see 
it,  that's  all. 

C.  Mathews. 

This  overweening  love  for  all  sorts  of  animals  was  such,  that 
I  dreaded  his  seeing  any  not  his  own,  lest  I  should  have  my 
already  over-stocked  house  and  ground  still  further  encumbered. 
His  alarm  at  his  present  addition  arose  from  my  extreme  terror 
of  a  cat,  although  to  oblige  him,  I  once  travelled  in  a  carriage 
from  Paris  with  a  large  Angola  cat,  given  to  him  by  Count 
d'Orsay.  He  certainly  derived  at  least  one  half  of  his  enjoy- 
ments from  the  brute  creation,  and  they  afforded  him  as  much 
speculative  interest  as  the  human  race,  for  he  discovered  varieties 
and  points  of  character  in  these  his  pets  as  well  as  in  his  own 
species.  He  became  a  fellow  of  the  Zoological  Gardens,  purely 
for  the  privilege  of  being  able,  whenever  inclined,  to  divert  him- 
self with  the  beasts  and  birds,  and  would  watch  them  for  hours 
with  the  most  untiring  interest  and  childish  merriment.  I 
remember  one  day,  when  I  accompanied  him  to  see  a  peculiar 
and  absurd-looking  cockatoo  placed  in  that  bird-Babel,  where  the 
birds  all  chattered  together,  the  Duke  of  Wellington  accosted 
my  husband  with  his  usual  condescension,  and  taxed  him  with 
frequenting  these  gardens  for  studies  of  character.  Mr.  Mathews 
did  not  deny  this,  for  he  was  ashamed  to  confess  that  he  came 
only  to  play  with  the  animals.  It  was  not  true  that  he  was  a 
seeker  after  peculiarities,  in  human  nature ;  he  only  picked  them 
up  when  they  fell  in  his  way. 

The  following  is  an  amusing  instance  of  the  notice  which  Mr. 
Mathews  took  of  animals  wherever  he  found  them, 

"  Mathews's  interest  in  the  curiosities  of  natural  history  was  not 
confined  to  the  human  specimen.  He  took  great  pleasure  in  horses  and 
dogs.  Of  his  respect  for  any  remarkable  specimens  of  the  latter  I  re- 
member a  characteristic  instance.  I  happened  to  be  at  Bath  once  when 
he  was  giving  his  *  At  Home'  there.  As  we  were  walking  along  one  of 
the  principal  streets  together  one  morning,  a  noble  Newfoundland  dog 
was  sitting  sedately  bolt  upxight  at  a  door  that  we  had  to  pass.    As 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  381 

soon  as  we  got  opposite  to  the  dog,  Mathews  stopped  short,  went  to 
the  edge  of  the  pavement,  took  off  his  hat,  and  made  a  low  bow  to  the 
evidently  astonished  animal,  and  then  passed  on  without  saying  a  word. 
*  Do  you  know  him,'  said  I,  'that  you  salute  him  in  that  fashion?' 
— '  No,'  he  replied,  *  but  I  have  a  profound  respect  for  a  dog  like  that, 
and  I  generally  show  it  in  the  way  you  have  seen.'  "  * 

This  anecdote  reminds  rae  of  the  following: — During  our 
second  year  in  London,  when  we  lived  in  lodgings,  I  was 
awakened  one  morning  at  daj^-break  by  a  commotion  in  the 
house,  an*d  I  thought  I  heard  the  word  coat  reiterated  with 
great  emphasis  by  several  voices.  At  last  came  a  tap  at  the 
chamber  door,  and  an  inquir^^  which  I  translated  to  my  husband 
into,  "  Did  you  bring  a  coat  home  with  you  last  night  ?"  This 
question  threw  him  into  convulsions  of  laughter,  which  were 
afterwards  accounted  for  in  the  following  manner. 

Mr.  Mathews  had  supped  out  with  a  party  of  gentlemen,  and 
returned  home  between  two  and  three  in  the  morning.  As  he 
came  up  the  street,  a  large  goat  met  him,  and  made  a  sort  of 
appeal ;  my  husband  in  return  made  him  a  bow,  and  talked  to 
him  as  was  his  habit  to  animals,  making  matter  out  of  the  cir- 
cumstance of  the  time.  The  goat  seemed  to  be  in  distress.  Mr. 
Mathews  inquired  of  him  whether  he  was  locked  out  of  his 
lodgings  ?  The  animal  uttered  sounds  expressive  to  my  hus- 
band's ear  of  a  distressed  affirmative,  and  as  he  proceeded,  the 
goat  turned  and  walked  side  by  side  with  him  to  the  door,  where 
he  paused,  as  if  determined  not  to  leave  him.  Mr.  Mathews  then 
told  him  that  he  regretted  his  forlorn  situation,  and  feared  he  had 
no  bed  to  offer  him  fitted  to  his  habits  and  convenience.  Still 
the  animal  pleaded  eloquently  in  his  own  way.  As  the  resident 
was  letting  himself  in  with  a  key,  his  friend,  "  bearded  like  the 
pard,"  seemed  to  say,  "  Pray  don't  close  your  hospitable  door 
against  me!"  and  the  petition  was  not  addressed  to  a  callous 
ear  or  an  unfeeling  heart.  He  was  told  he  should  have  shelter 
for  the  night ;  and  as  the  lock  of  the  door  turned,  and  Mr. 
Mathews  entered  the  house,  the  goat,  taking  him  at  his  word, 
rushed  by  him,  and,  as  if  accustomed  to  its  turnings  and  locali- 
ties, ran  down  into  the  kitchen  and  laid  himself  in  an  attitude  of 
content  and  thankfulness  upon  the  hearth.  There  my  husband 
left  him  after  a  few  remarks  upon  propriety  of  conduct,  and  a 
tacit  agreement  on  his  guest's  part  not  to  do  any  damage  to  the 
moveables,  or  disgrace  his  patronage. 

*  "  Persoi-'al  Recollections"  of  Mr.  Mathews. 


882  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OP 

It  appeared  that  when  the  servants  entered  the  kitchen  the 
following  morning,  the  sight  of  this  huge  horned  beast  alarmed 
the  females,  who  in  vain  endeavoured  to  turn  it  out.  Every  one 
of  the  house  authorities  in  succession  essayed,  but  without  suc- 
cess, and  this  occasioned  the  perturbation,  which  at  length 
reached  the  hearing  of  the  "  sole  contriver  of  this  harm,"  who, 
remembering  the  creature's  manner  and  conduct  over-night,  was 
tickled  at  its  present  behaviour,  and  the  consternation  its  ap- 
pearance in  the  house  occasioned. 

I  had  some  difficulty  in  persuading  Mr.  Mathews  not  to  keep 
this  animal  as  a  pensioner  in  the  neighbourhood,  fearing  that  his 
partiality  would  bring  it  sometimes  as  a  visitor  to  me ;  and  it 
was  with  something  of  sadness  that  he  allowed  the  animal  to 
depart,  although  he  caused  it  to  be  traced  to  a  livery- stable  yard 
(where  it  was  evidently  valued  and  had  been  regretted  during 
its  absence),  in  order  to  be  assured  that  it  was  provided  for.  He 
often  afterwards  went  to  see  it. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  383 


CHAPTER  XXXVIir. 

Mr.  Mathews  a  great  hunter  after  "  sights" — The  Fasting  Woman  of  Tetbury; 
the  Living  Skeleton ;  Daniel  Lambert ;  Miss  Crackham,  an  Irish  Sicilian — 
Hottentot  Venus — Mr.  Kemble's  visit  to  the  last-mentioned  curiosity — A 
midnight  scene :  Mustapha  the  cat,  Mr.  Mathews,  and  Mr.  Kemble — Mr. 
Mathews's  anxiety  for  the  means  of  retirement  and  repose — His  losses  in 
bubble  companies — His  conviction  that  his  constitution  was  breaking  up— 
Removal  from  the  Cottage  to  London — The  Adelphi  Theatre  property — 
Action  at  law  against  Mr.  Mathews  for  thirty  thousand  pounds — Exhibition 
of  the  pictures  collected  by  Mr.  Mathews — His  London  residence — His  final 
departure  from  the  Cottage — Decline  of  his  health  and  spirits — His  com- 
mencement of  his  autobiography — His  lethargy — Letter  from  Mr.  Mathews 
to  Mr.  Gyles — Account  of  the  exhibition  of  the  theatrical  pictures — Mr. 
Mathews  at  the  dinner  of  the  Covent  Garden  Theatrical  Fund :  imitation  of 
"Glorious  Dan" — Mr.  Mathews's  "Comic  Annual"  for  1833. 

Until  the  Zoological  Gardens  afforded  readier  indulgence  to  his 
taste,  Mr.  Mathews  used  to  visit  Exeter  'Change,  the  Tower, 
and  the  fairs  in  the  neighbourhood  of  London,  for  the  sole  pur- 
pose of  beholding  such  beings  as  were  not  elsewhere  to  be  found, 
even  of  the  human  as  well  as  other  animals.  Brook-Green  was 
the  spot  of  one  of  these  pleasurings  ;  and  a  small  party  of  gen- 
tlemen, with  similar  likings,  or  else  out  of  a  courteous  wish  to 
please  Mr.  Mathews,  would  annually  drive  to  see  the  "  lions"  of 
every  kind. 

Mr.  Mathews  was  all  his  life  a  great  sight-seer — that  is,  if 
the  curiosity  was  either  a  human  or  any  other  animal ;  but  he 
was  not  a  follower  of  mere  pageants. 

Many  j^ears  since  he  formed  a  strong  attachment  to  the  Spotted 
Boy,  whom  he  visited  frequently.  The  child  loved  him  very 
much,  and  they  played  together  by  the  hour.  When  this  boy 
died,  Mr.  Mathews  was  much  affected.  Every  one  who  knew 
my  husband  also  knew  how  great  a  regard  he  for  many  years 
entertained  for  the  accomplished  and  elegant  dwarf,  Count  Bo- 
ruwlaski,*  with  whom  he  first  became  acquainted  in  1800.     The 

•  Count  Boruwlaski  died  at  the  time  this  was  written,  in  September,  1837, 
at  the  great  age  of  ninety-nine,  but  in  full  possession  of  his  faculties. 


S84  THE  LIFE  AND  COEKESPONDENCE  OF 

Fasting  Woman  of  Tetbury  (since,  I  believe,  proved  to  have 
been  partly  an  impostor)  interested  him  deeply.  Indeed,  he 
never  omitted  seeing  anything  uncommon  in  animated  nature ; 
and  the  Living  Skeleton  and  Mr.  Lambert  were  alike  objects  of 
his  contemplation.  The  latter  he  visited  frequently,  and  found 
him  very  intelligent.  The  half-courteous,  half-sullen  manner  in 
which  this  "gross  fat  man"  received  the  majority  of  his  visitors 
met  the  humour  of  my  husband,  and  he  liked  as  well  as  pitied 
him ;  for  it  was  distressing  sometimes  to  hear  the  coarse  obser- 
vations made  by  unfeeling  people,  and  the  silly  unthinking 
questions  asked  b}"-  many  of  them  about  his  appetite,  &c. 

Where  Mr.  Mathews's  feelings  were  not  interested,  he  found 
amusement,  and  came  home  with  many  a  droll  account  of  what 
he  had  seen,  of  which  I  liked  to  hear,  although  I  always  shrunk 
from  the  sights  themselves.  At  Liverpool,  he  was  tempted  to 
pay  a  visit  to  a  Miss  Crackham,  a  young  lady  of  very  limited 
dimensions.  When  he  entered  the  room,  he  found  her  seated 
on  a  raised  platform,  in  seeming  mockery  of  regal  state,  to  re- 
ceive her  visitors  :  she  was  described  to  be  of  foreign  birth.  The 
man  who  attended  her,  attired  in  a  strange  garb,  had  a  tall 
athletic  figure,  and  formed  an  admirable  contrast  to  the  tiny 
proportions  of  his  daughter,  as  he  called  her.  Oh,  for  tlie  power 
to  describe  as  I  heard  this  scene  described !  The  lady  was  a 
most  disgusting  little  withered  creature  (although  young),  very 
white,  and,  what  my  husband  disliked  very  much  in  any  woman, 
had  a  powdery  look  upon  her  skin.  Her  voice  was  pitched  in 
the  highest  key  of  childish  treble,  indeed  so  thin  and  comb-like, 
that  it  hardly  reached  the  ear  of  those  to  whom  she  spoke.  Her 
"papa,"  however,  considerately  repeated  all  she  said,  for  the 
satisfaction  of  her  patrons,  adding  many  particulars  not  men- 
tionable  to  ears  polite.  Mr.  Mathews  was  quite  alone  with 
them,  for  Miss  Crackham  was  not  "  sought  after"  by  the  gen- 
tlemen of  Liverpool —  an  eternal  stain  upon  their  gallantry  ! — 
and,  after  some  time,  during  which  the  man  conversed  with  in- 
creased confidence,  derived  from  his  visitor's  "  attentive  hearing," 
my  husband  startled  the  foreigner  when  he  spoke  of  his  birth- 
place (Palermo),  by  asking,  significantly,  whether  it  was  Palermo 
in  the  county  of  Cork  where  he  was  born  ?  At  this  inquiry,  the 
man  leered  at  him  in  an  arch  manner,  scratching  his  head  for  a 
moment,  and  rubbing  his  cheek  with  his  hand,  as  if  puzzled  how 
to  treat  the  question.  At  last  he  winked  his  eye,  and  putting 
his  finger  to  the  side  of  his  nose,  said,  "  Och  !  I  see  your  honour'^ 
a  deep  'un  1    Sure,  your  right ;  but  don't  peach !"     And  in  order 


CHAKLES  MATHEWS.  885 

to  lay  my  husband  under  an  obligation  that  might  insure  his 
secrecy,  he  offered  him,  gratis,  what  was  never  allowed  to  the 
public  without  additional  fee,  the  amount  of  which  was  announced 
in  large  letters  over  the  platform,  in  the  following  words  :  "  Those 
who  handle  Miss  Crackham  will  be  expected  to  pay  another 
shilling."  My  husband  had  forbearance  enough  to  decline  this 
liberality  and  the  opportunity  proffered,  and  never  mentioned 
the  ingenious  foreigner's  secret  to  anybody  but  his  own  family, 
and  friends,  and  acquaintances,  &c. 

The  "  Hottentot  Venus,"  as  a  matter  of  course,  attracted  this 
professed  seeker  of  sights.  In  those  days,  when  bustles  were 
not,  she  was  a  curiosity,  for  English  ladies  then  wore  no  shape 
but  what  Nature  gave  and  insisted  upon  ;  and  the  Grecian  dra- 
pery was  simply  thrown  upon  the  natural  form,  without  whale- 
bone or  buckram  to  distort  or  disguise  it.  Well,  then,  a  Hot- 
tentot Venus  being  in  that  day  a  novelty,  Mr.  Mathews  of  course 
went  to  see  her. 

He  found  her  surrounded  by  many  persons,  some  females! 
One  pinched  her,  another  walked  round  her;  one  gentleman 
poked  her  with  his  cane ;  and  one  lady  employed  her  parasol  to 
ascertain  that  all  was,  as  she  called  it, "  nattral."  This  inhuman 
baiting  the  poor  creature  bore  with  sullen  indifference,  except 
upon  some  great  provocation,  when  she  seemed  inclined  to  re- 
sent brutality,  which  even  a  Hottentot  can  understand.  On 
these  occasions  it  required  all  the  authority  of  the  keeper  to 
subdue  her  resentment.  At  last  her  civilized  visitors  departed^ 
and,  to  Mr.  Mathews's  great  surprise  and  pleasure,  JohnKemble 
entered  the  room.  As  he  did  so  he  paused  at  the  door,  with 
his  eyes  fixed  upon  the  object  of  his  visit,  and  advancing  slowly 
to  obtain  a  closer  view,  without  speaking  to  my  husband,  he 
gazed  at  the  woman,  with  his  under-lip  dropped  for  a  minute. 
His  beautiful  countenance  then  underwent  a  sudden  change,  and 
at  length  softened  almost  into  tears  of  compassion. 

"  Poor,  poor  creature  !"  at  length  he  uttered  in  his  peculiar 
tone, — "  very,  very  extraordinary,  indeed  !"  He  then  shook 
hands  silently  with  Mr.  Mathews,  keeping  his  eyes  still  upon 
the  object  before  him.  He  minutely  questioned  the  man  about 
the  state  of  mind,  disposition,  comfort,  &c.  of  the  Hottentot, 
and  again  exclaimed,  with  an  expression  of  the  deepest  pity, 
*'Poor  creature!" 

I  have  observed  that  at  the  time  Mr.  Mathews  entered  and 
found  her  surrounded  by  some  of  our  own  barbarians,  the  coun- 
tenance of  the  "  Venus"  exhibited  the  most  sullen  and  occa- 

c  0 


386  THE  LIFE  AND  COKRESPONDENCE  OF 

sionally  ferocious  expression  ;  but  the  moment  she  looked  in  Mr. 
Kemble's  face,  her  own  became  placid  and  mild — nay,  she  was 
obviously  pleased ;  and  patting  her  hands  together,  and  holding 
them  up  in  evident  admiration,  uttered  the  unintelligible  words, 
*'0h,  ma  Babba!  Oh,  ma  Babba  !"  gazing  at  the  face  of  the 
tragedian  with  unequivocal  delight.  "  What  does  she  say,  sir  ?" 
asked  Mr.  Kemble,  gravely,  of  the  keeper,  as  the  woman  reite- 
rated these  strange  words  ;  "  does  she  call  me  her  papa  ?"  "No, 
sir,"  answered  the  man ;  "  she  says  you  are  a  very  fine  man." 
"  Upon  my  word,  said  Kemble,  drily,  with  an  inclination  of  his 
head,  as  he  took  a  pinch  of  snuff  for  the  first  time  since  he 
entered,  which  he  had  held  betwixt  his  finger  and  thumb 
during  his  suspended  admiration  and  surprise — "  upon  my  word, 
the  lady  does  me  infinite  honour!"  Whether  his  fine  face  in 
reality  struck  the  fancy  of  the  lady,  or  whether  Mr.  Kemble's 
pitying  tones  and  considerate  forbearance  of  the  usual  ceremo- 
nies, reached  her  heart,  it  is  certain  that  she  was  much  pleased 
with  him.  The  keeper  invited  him  once  more  to  touch  the 
poor  woman,  a  privilege  allowed  on  more  liberal  terms  than  in 
the  case  of  Miss  Crackham,  as  it  was  without  additional  fee. 
Mr.  Kemble  again  declined  the  offer,  retreating,  and  again  ex- 
claiming in  tones  of  the  most  humane  feeling,  "  No,  no,  poor 
creature,  no !"  And  the  two  actors  went  away  together,  Mr. 
Kemble  observing,  when  they  reached  the  street,  "  Now, 
Mathews,  my  good  fellow,  do  you  know  this  is  a  sight  which 
makes  me  melancholy.  I  dare  say,  now,  they  ill-use  that  poor 
creature!  Good  God!  how  very  shocking!"  And  away  he 
stalked,  as  if  musing,  and  totally  forgetting  his  companion  until 
the  moment  of  separation  recalled  his  recollection. 

About  this  period,  these  friends  had  been  dining  together  at 
Mr.  Charles  Kemble's  house.  Mr,  John  Kemble  had  taken  much 
wine,  and  when  the  party  broke  up,  Mr.  Mathews  determined  to 
accompany  the  tragedian  to  his  own  door.  Giving  him  his  arm, 
therefore,  they  proceeded  slowly  to  Mr.  Kemble's  house  in  Great 
Bussell-street,  Bloomsbury.  The  tragedian  was  full  of  talk,  and 
*' very  happy,"  as  it  is  called ;  and  although  the  hour  was  late, 
his  pressing  invitation  to  his  friend  to  enter  the  house  with  him, 
induced  my  husband  to  obey.  It  was  evident  that  the  man  who 
opened  the  door  was  the  only  person  who  remained  up  in  the 
establishment.  Mr.  Kemble  went  into  his  library,  accompanied 
by  Mr.  Mathews,  and  desired  the  attendant  to  bring  a  tray,  at 
the  same  time,  with  great  formality,  introducing  him  to  the 
notice  of  his  guest  as  the  "gentleman  who  did  him  the  honour 


CHAKLES  MATHEWS.  387 

to  take  care  of  his  wine,"  &c.  It  was  in  vain  that  Mr.  Mathews 
protested  against  further  hospitahty.  Mr.  Kemble  was  too  much 
excited  to  have  his  spirit  easily  laid,  and,  surrounded  as  he  was 
with  books,  he  began  a  disquisition  upon  their  authors,  above  all, 
his  "  belov-ed  Shakspeare!"  on  whom  he  discoursed  most  elo- 
quently, after  taking  a  volume  from  the  shelf,  and  devoutly 
kissing  the  binding.  At  length  the  tray  was  brought  in  with 
wine  and  water,  &c.,  and  with  it  entered  an  enormous  cat,  deco- 
rated with  a  red  collar  and  a  bell.  The  appearance  of  his  favourite 
cat  called  forth  its  master's  most  affectionate  notice,  and  many 
relations  of  its  extraordinary  powers  of  understanding,  its  devoted 
attachment  to  its  master's  person,  &c.,  were  detailed  to  Mr. 
Mathews.  Mustapha,  Mr.  Kemble  declared,  had  much  of  human 
feeling  of  the  best  kind  in  his  composition ;  he  described  how  he 
watched  his  return  home,  mourned  his  absence,  &c.,  and  grew 
maudlin  in  its  praise.  The  animal  seemed,  indeed,  happy  in  its 
master's  presence,  and  it  looked  up  in  his  face  as  it  composedly 
lay  down  before  him.  Mr.  Mathews  mewed ;  Mr.  Kemble, 
turning  round  at  this  sound,  which  he  believed  to  proceed  from 
the  cat,  observed,  "  There,  my  dear  Mathews,  do  you  hear  that  ? 
Now,  that  creature  knows  all  I  say  of  him,  and  is  replying  to 
it."  This  amused  my  husband,  and  he  repeated  the  experiment 
in  all  the  varieties  of  feline  intonation,  mewing,  purring,  &c. 
Mr.  Kemble  at  last  said  to  him,  in  his  slow  and  measured  tones, 
"  Now,  you  don't  know  what  he  means  by  that,  but  I  do. 
Mus  ! — Mus !"  (on  every  reiteration  of  this  affectionate  dimi- 
nutive, raising  his  voice  to  its  most  tragic  expression,  of  tender- 
ness)— "umph!  My  dear  sir,  that  creature  knows  that  it  is 
beyond  my  usual  time  of  sitting  up,  and  he's  uneasy  !  Mus ! 
Mus !"  But  Mus  was  sleepy  and  inattentive,  and  his  master 
resumed  his  criticisms  upon  the  different  readings  of  Shakspeare, 
talked  also  of  Lope  de  Vega,  and  was  again  interrupted  by  a  mew, 
as  he  believed,  from  the  dissatisfied  Mus.  "  What,"  asked  his  fond 
master,  looking  down  upon  him,  "what  is  it  you  desire,  my  good 
friend  ?"  (Mus,  alias  Mathews,  mewed  once  more,  in  a  more 
supplicating  and  more  touching  tone.)  "  Well,  well !  I  under- 
stand you  :  you  want  to  go  to  bed.  Well,  I  suppose  I  must 
indulge  you."  Here  Mr.  Kemble  dehberately  arose,  put  down 
his  book  upon  the  table,  with  its  face  open  at  the  page  to  which 
he  had  referred,  took  a  measured  pinch  of  snuff*,  and  somewhat 
tottered  to  the  door,  which  he  with  difficulty  opened.  He  then 
awaited  Mustapha's  exit,  but  Mustapha  having  no  voice  in  the 
aff'air,  preferred  remaining  where  he  was ;  and  his  master  kindly 

c  c  2 


388  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

reproached  him  with  being  a  "little  capricious  in  first  asking  to  go, 
and  then  preferring  to  stay."  With  a  smile  and  look  at  my  husband 
of  the  gentlest  indulgence  towards  his  favourite's  humour,  he" 
tottered  back  again  to  his  chair,  resumed  his  declamatory  obser- 
vations upon  the  relative  powers  of  dramatic  writers  and  their 
essential  requisites,  till  the  troublesome  Mustapha  again  renewed 
his  mewing  solicitations.  Mr.  Kemble  once  more  stopped,  and 
looking  again  at  the  imaginary  cause  of  his  interruption  with 
philosophic  patience,  asked,  "  Well,  Mus,  what  would  you 
have?"  Then,  after  another  pause,  turning  to  his  guest,  said: 
"  Now,  my  dear  Mathews,  you  are  fond  of  animals,  and  ought 
to  know  this  one ;  he's  a  perfect  character  for  you  to  study. 
Now,  sir,  that  cat  knows  that  I  shall  be  ill  to-morrow,  and  he's 
uneasy  at  my  sitting  up."  Then  benevolently  looking  at  the 
cat,  added,  "  Umph !  my  dear  Mus.  I  must  beg  your  indul- 
gence, my  good  friend;  I  really  csm-not  go  to  bed  yet."  Mus 
whined  his  reply,  and  his  master  declared  that  the  cat  asked  to 
be  allowed  to  go  away.  On  the  door  being  a  second  time 
opened,  after  similar  exertion  on  Mr.  Kemble's  part  to  effect 
this  courtesy,  and  several  grave  chirpings  in  order  to  entice  Mus 
from  the  fire-place,  the  animal  at  length  left  the  room.  Mr. 
Kemble  then  returned,  as  before,  to  his  seat,  drank  another  glass 
of  wine  and  water,  and,  just  as  he  was  comfortably  re-established, 
the  incorrigible  Mus.  was  heard  in  the  passage  again,  in  loud 
lament,  and  importunate  demand  for  re-admittance.  "  Umph !" 
said  Mr.  Kemble,  with  another  pinch  of  snuff — "now,  that 
animal,  sir,  is  not  happy,  after  all,  away  from  me."  (Mus  was 
louder  than  ever  at  this  moment.)  "  Why,  what  ails  the 
creature  ?  Surely  there  is  more  in  this  than  we  dream  of, 
Mathews.  You,  who  have  studied  such  beings,  ought  to  be 
able  to  explain."  Poor  Mus  made  another  pathetic  appeal  for 
re-admission,  and  his  master's  heart  was  not  made  of  flint.  Mr. 
Kemble  apologized  to  his  guest  for  these  repeated  interruptions, 
and  managed  once  more  to  make  his  way  to  the  door.  After 
opening  it,  and  waiting  a  minute  for  the  re-entrance  of  his 
favourite,  but  not  seeing  it,  he  smiled  at  my  husband  with  the 
same  indulgent  expression  as  before,  and  remarked, "  Now,  would 
you  believe  it,  Mathews,  that  extraordinary  animal  was  affronted 
at  not  being  let  in  again  on  his  first  appeal  ? — and  now  it  is  his 
humour  not  to  come  at  all !  Mus ! — Mustapha ! — Mus !"  But 
as  no  Mus  appeared,  the  door  was  closed  with  the  same  delibera- 
tion, and  Mr.  Kemble  once  more  contrived  to  regain  his  chair, 
and  recommenced  his  comments,  quite  unobservant  of  the  almost 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  o89 

hysterical  fit  of  laughter  to  which  my  husband  was  by  this  time 
reduced  at  the  imposition  he  had  so  successfully,  though  in  the 
first  place  so  unintentionally,  practised  upon  the  credulity  of  his 
grave  and  unsuspecting  friend.  But  it  did  not  end  here,  for 
Mr.  Mathews  reiterated  his  imitations,  and  Mr.  Kemble  again 
remarked  upon  his  favourite's  peculiarities  of  temper,  &c.  Again 
he  went  to  the  door,  again  returned,  till  even  "  Mr,  Midnight" 
(as  some  friends  of  ours  christened  Mr.  Mathews,  from  his  love 
of  late  hours)  felt  it  time  to  retire,  and  leave  Mr.  Kemble,  which 
he  did  as  he  saw  him  fall  asleep,  in  the  act  of  representing  his 
idea  of  the  scene  of  the  sick  king  in  Henry  IV.,  with  his  pocket- 
handkerchief  spread  over  his  head  as  a  substitute  for  the  charac- 
teristic drapery  of  the  dying  monarch. 

Feeling  the  effects  of  his  most  serious  accident  of  1814  in- 
creasing, and  doubtless  other  undisclosed  sufferings  which  his 
death  revealed,  Mr.  Mathews  became  restless  for  the  last  ten 
years  to  obtain  the  means  of  retirement  and  repose.  His  total 
want  of  head  for  the  business  of  life  laid  him  open  to  every 
specious  adviser  that  came  in  his  way,  and  about  the  year  1824, 
as  I  have  before  stated,  he  was  persuaded  by  interested  persons, 
under  the  show  of  a  pure  wish  to  serve  him,  to  sink  a  large  sum 
in  one  of  the  bubble  companies.  Of  course  he  lost  the  whole  of 
his  venture.  Still  he  listened  to  the  next  tempter,  and  again 
and  again  his  losses  were  immense  and  calamitous  in  their  con- 
sequences. 

I  was  consulted  upon  these  speculations,  and  strenuously  urged 
him  not  to  enter  into  them,  when  tears  would  gush  from  his 
eyes,  and  in  a  tone  which  reached  my  heart,  he  would  say,  "  If 
you  knew  what  I  suffer  from  my  exertions,  you  would  not 
scruple  at  any  honest  means  by  which  I  can  make  a  short  road 
to  rest."  Yet  his  mercurial  temperament  would  soon  after 
induce  me  to  view  his  words  more  as  the  feeling  of  the  minute 
than  as  coming  from  any  serious  cause.  I  knew,  indeed,  that  he 
suffered  at  times  severely  from  his  lameness,  but  I  also  knew 
that  a  sedentary  life,  or  one  of  entire  leisure,  was  not  such  as 
would  produce  him  mental  ease  or  bodily  repose.  Action  was 
the  soul  of  his  existence.  He  generally  acknowledged  this,  though 
sometimes  he  tried  to  deceive  himself  into  an  opposite  belief. 
Alas!  I  now  see  that  at  those  moments  his  convictions  were 
strongest  that  his  constitution  would  not  long  admit  of  such 
exertions ;  and  kindly  concealins:  from  me  his  internal  warnings 
(perhaps  not  all  at  once  of  a  definite  character),  he  only  laid  a 
stress  upon  the  apparent  cause — his  lameness;  and  this  plea  pre- 
vailed when  he  put  it  forward  with  so  much  earnestness. 


39 0  THE  LIFE  AND   COERESPONDENCE  OF 

A  judicious  friend  at  this  period  induced  him  to  resign  his 
cottage  and  reside  in  London  for  a  few  years,  in  order  to  retrieve 
the  sad  effects  of  former  bad  advice,  and  the  calamitous  results 
of  money  given  and  lent  to  the  imgrateful  and  dishonest,  in  addi- 
tion to  sums  swallowed  up  in  Companies,  into  which  he  ought 
never  to  have  been  introduced.  His  share  of  the  Adelphi 
Theatre  property  was,  with  his  future  exertions,  all  that  was  left 
to  him,  with  a  drawback  occasioned  by  the  last  of  his  specula- 
tions in  the  following  shape.  The  tradesmen  employed  in  this 
failing  concern  commenced  actions  for  their  several  outlays  and 
work,  and  of  course  proceeded  against  the  moneyed  portion  of 
the  partners  and  shareholders  for  remuneration.  The  unfortu- 
nate fallacy  of  Mr.  Mathews's  great  riches  prompted  an  action 
against  him  to  the  amount  of  thirty  thousand  pounds  ;  and 
though  this  ruinous  proceeding  was  partly  averted  by  the  exer- 
tions of  a  personal  and  legal  friend  of  my  husband,  the  alterna- 
tive was  a  compromise  almost  as  fearful,  because  it  was  indefinite. 
The  money  was  claimed  of  Mr.  Mathews  by  uncertain  instal- 
ments at  unexpected  periods,  thus  placing  him  in  the  position  of 
a  person  liable  to  suffer  one  day  the  loss  of  a  single  hair,  plucked 
hastily  from  his  head,  and  another  day  two  or  three  more,  each 
bringing  tears  into  his  eyes,  and  sometimes  making  him  wish 
he  had  suffered  the  less  teasing  operation  of  losing  the  wIioIq 
at  once. 

In  consequence  of  all  these  harassing  and  accumulated  evils^ 
Mr.  Mathews  began  this  year  with  a  great  struggle  between 
inclination  and  duty,  but,  as  in  most  cases  where  my  husband 
had  to  decide,  the  latter  triumphed.  By  his  repeated  and  serious 
losses  and  speculations  entered  into  with  a  hope  of  what  he  felt 
must  soon  be  necessary  to  him — namely,  repose  from  professional 
exertion — his  income  was  so  much  lessened,  that  to  continue  his 
present  style  of  living  was  out  of  the  question.  The  cottage  and 
grounds  required  keeping  up — no  inconsiderable  part  of  the  cost 
of  a  place  of  this  kind,  and  the  number  of  servants  requisite,  with 
horses,  carriage,  &c.,  rendered  a  longer  possession  of  this  prized 
abode  a  matter  of  concern  far  outweighing  its  advantages.  The 
first  and  greatest  difficulty  was  the  destination  of  the  pictures. 
Where  could  they  be  placed  without  injury  ?  and  what  London 
house  could  hold  them  advantageously  ?  His  friends  being  con- 
sulted, advised  their  sale.  This  was  a  blow  to  my  husband's 
happiness  even  beyond  the  separation  from  his  darling  cottage. 
The  thought  upset  all  his  fortitude.  However,  he  paused  before 
he  decided.   He  then  asked  who  would  be  the  purchaser  ?    "  The 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  391 

Garrick  Club  ought,"  it  was  said,  "  to  have  them."  This  sug- 
gestion in  a  great  measure  reconciled  him  to  the  idea  of  parting 
from  them.  To  have  them  where  he  could  look  at  them,  and, 
above  all,  see  them  kept  as  an  unbroken  collection, — this,  indeed, 
would  comfort  him  under  a  separation.  The  Club,  however, 
offered  so  .small  a  sum  for  the  gallery,  which  had  cost  Mr. 
Mathews  so  much  labour  and  care  to  collect  (about  one-fifth  of 
what  was  originally  given  for  them,  without  reckoning  the  inte- 
rest of  money  for  so  many  years),  that  the  idea  of  parting  with 
them  was  wholly  given  up.  At  length,  after  much  persuasion 
arid  struggle  against  his  own  feelings,  he  consented  to  have  them 
exhibited,  not  so  much  with  a  hope  of  gain  from  such  exhibition, 
as  with  a  view  to  their  present  safety  and  ultimate  sale.  Well, 
indeed,  was  it  that  no  pecuniary  feeling  urged  their  removal,  for 
when  the  accounts  of  the  exhibition  were  closed  at  the  end  of  the 
period  they  were  before  the  public,  it  was  found  that  the  loss 
exceeded  a  hundred  and  fifty  pounds!  The  gallery,  which 
ostensibly  drew  such  numbers  to  our  house,  while  as  many  more 
were  denied  admittance  year  after  year,  without  the  presence  of 
its  proprietor,  was  not  found  worth  one  shilling  cost  to  behold  ! 
For  so  it  may  be  presumed,  reckoning  the  average  of  chance 
persons  with  those  who  for  more  than  twenty  years  applied  for 
admission,  and  were  refused,  parties  often  presenting  themselves 
at  the  gate  of  the  cottage,  and  almost  forcing  themselves  in. 
Had  we  yielded,  indeed,  to  every  application  of  this  kind,  we 
should  not  have  had  an  hour  in  the  day  free  from  intrusion ;  as 
it  was,  but  few  were  allowed  to  us.  So  many  came,  whom  to 
reject  would  have  been  personally  mortifying  to  us,  that  our 
peaceful  retreat  was  converted  almost  into  a  fatigue  to  us,  too 
often  having  all  the  character  of  a  show-place,  (from  which  I 
pray  Heaven  to  defend  me !)  where  we  lived  more  for  others  than 
for  ourselves. 

Well,  we  turned  our  backs  upon  our  earthly  paradise,  "  the 
world  before  us,"  but  not  "  where  to  choose."  However,  I  found 
a  residence  so  constructed  that  my  husband's  objections  were 
consulted,  although  his  taste  could  not,  for  it  was  in  London. 
In  fact,  he  had  what  he  stipulated  for,  namely,  a  house  within  a 
certain  distance  of  the  clubs  and  the  theatre,  which  he  could 
reach  by  means  of  by -streets,  with  its  principal  rooms  situated 
at  the  back,  away  from  the  street.  I  found  these  at  101,  Great 
Russell-street,  Bloomsbury,  looking  upon  a  green  plot  of  level 
ground  of  about  a  hundred  feet  long,  with  trees  on  either  side, 
and  a  terrace  before  the  windows  for  flowers  and  shrubs.     As  he 


892  THE  LIFE  AND  CORKESPONDENCE  OF 

also  stipulated  not  to  live  in  a  fashionable  street,  where  he  might 
be  "stared  at,"  his  exits  and  entrances  (to  speak  theatrically) 
were  not  marked  and  remarked  by  unoccupied  neighbours,  for 
he  was  shy  even  at  a  head  peeping  over  an  opposite  blind  at 
him  as  he  got  into  his  carriage.*  Thus  all  was  arranged ;  and 
though  it  was  touching  to  see  my  husband's  parting  look  at  the 
place  we  had  made,  as  he  rode  out  at  the  gate  for  the  last  time, 
he  manfully  bore  up,  for  a  short  period,  against  his  change  of 
residence  and  habits.  I  proposed  to  resign  tlie  chariot  in  favour 
of  a  cabriolet,  in  which  we  could  seek  the  air  together;  and 
this  pleased  him,  for  he  hated  a  close  carriage.  But  his  health 
now  became  visibly  impaired,  and  his  spirits,  in  spite  of  every 
effort,  declined  also.  Still  I  was  unsuspicious  of  any  constitu- 
tional or  deeply-seated  disorder. 

It  was  about  this  period  that  the  idea  of  writing  his  Life 
was  first  seriously  entertained.  I  had  suggested  to  him  that  a 
pursuit  of  such  a  nature  would  act  in  a  salutary  manner  upon 
his  mind  and  health  under  present  circumstances,  by  rousing 
his  energies  to  exertion,  at  the  same  time  by  diverting  him  from 
thoughts  not  wholesome  to  dwell  upon,  while  he  would  in  effect 
be  realizing  a  sum  of  money  by  his  employment  that  would 
ultimately  reward  his  labour.  To  these  and  similar  suggestions 
my  husband  at  length  yielded  his  serious  consideration ;  and, 
.  without  premeditation  or  plan,  began  the  autobiography  with 
which  the  present  memoirs  commence.  He  proceeded  at  first 
rapidly  to  relate  what  his  memory  supplied.  The  occupation 
seemed  to  afford  him  enjoyment,  but  his  alacrity  did  not  last ; 
his  undertaking  flagged  from  his  utter  want  of  power  to  devote 
himself  long  enough  and  often  enough  to  make  the  desired  pro- 
gress. I  have  seen  him,  as  I  left  the  room,  established  at  his 
writing-table,  pursuing  his  purpose  with  apparent  dihgence  and 
spirit ;  and  on  my  return,  a  quarter  of  an  hour  afterwards,  have 
found  him  asleep  in  his  chair.  He  would  afterwards  tell  me, 
and  sometimes  with  tears,  that  he  found  himself  unable  to  keep 
awake,  for  that  a  lethargic  stupor  crept  over  him  the  moment 
he  began  to  write  or  read,  which  he  could  not  resist  long  at  a 
time.f 

*  It  had  been  the  custom  at  the  Cottage  for  one  of  the  servants  always  to 
watch,  while  the  carriage  waited  at  the  gate,  to  apprize  him  of  the  moment 
when  he  might  enter  it  unseen  by  any  passers  by :  his  pony  he  always  mounted 
and  dismounted  in  the  stable-yard. 

+  This  creeping  lethargy  attended  him  until  the  severest  part  of  his  fatal 
illness  commenced. 


m^   MATmmw^ 


072^!^^^  .J"^  ^4^;'ZA^,y^^?f9i^  di>?t/  ^^^<#^Kiz/..^:Ji^>^  -^    .^^aJ^<:y:^U^ 


T)„..i'-   J  j.._ 


CHAELES  MATHEWS.  393 

Such  was  always  the  result  of  his  endeavours  to  proceed  with 
his  task,  and  hence  the  limited  portion  of  manuscript  found  in 
his  handwriting  on  the  subject.  His  memory  was  so  all-suffi- 
cient, that  (unfortunately  for  this  book)  he  felt  no  need  of  notes 
or  memoranda.  He  proceeded  without  blot  or  pause  when  he 
did  write,  his  I'ccollection  furnishing  a  ready  and,  for  the  most 
part,  consecutive  account  of  what,  if  it  could  have  been  com- 
pleted by  himself,  would  have  been  as  valuable  to  his  family  as 
entertaining  to  his  readers.  Alas !  the  attempt  was  made  too 
late  ;  it  could  not  be. 

It  will  be  seen,  from  the  following  communication  to  his 
friend,  Mr.  Gyles,  that  he  exerted  himself  to  put  a  good  face 
upon  present  affairs,  and  was  anxious  not  to  confess  the  illness 
from  which  I  now  know  he  suffered  severely.  The  effects  of  this 
illness,  at  the  time,  I  ignorantly  imputed  to  local  and  dispiriting 
outward  causes. 

To  S.  B.  Gyles,  Esq, 

101,  Great  Russell-street,  April  I7tli,  1833. 

My  dear  Gyles, — "  If  this  letter  does  not  reach  you  until  you  begin 
your  study,  I  cannot  expect  an  answer."  I  have  taken  advantage  of 
this,  as  you  have  found  out ;  but,  what  think  you,  in  addition  to  this 
excellent  excuse,  of  having  undergone  all  the  horrors  of  moving  ?  Yes, 
and  here  I  am.  Cottage  gone;  pictures  in  London,  and  on  the  point 
of  being  exhibited.  Multiim  in  parvo.  The  why  and  wherefore  may 
be  matter  of  future  information.  Suffice  it  to  say,  I  had  excellent 
reasons  for  removal.  I  am  in  excellent  health  ;  but  my  lower  man  is 
much  damaged  from  that  doff-ged  accident.  M}^  ankle  still  weak,  and 
back  twisted.  I  should  have  opened  with,  I  think,  another  good  enter- 
tainment on  Monday,  but  the  epidemic,  of  which  I  suppose  you  have 
heard  by  this  time,  is  a  panic  with  a  vengeance — worse  than  cholera, 
though  not  so  fatal.  You  would  not  have  heard  from  me  until  my 
launch,  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  death  of  Lord  Foley,  who,  they  say, 
died  of  this  disorder.  If  so,  this  is  the  only  fatal  instance.  I  dined  in 
company  with  him  a  fortnight  ago,  at  Lord  Harrington's,  and  he 
appeared  to  me  to  be  well.  I  thought  it  possible  you  might  not  hear 
of  it,  if  you  do  not  make  a  greater  point  than  you  used  of  seeing  papers. 
Imagining  it  might  be  possible  that  this  intelligence  might  be  im- 
portant, I  therefore  determined  to  give  you  this  notice.  He  only  died 
yesterday.  I  will  write  a  longer  letter  soon ;  indeed  I  will.  Our  loves 
to  you  all,  and  ever  thine, 

Matty. 

In  May  the  collection  of  theatrical  pictures  was  opened  to 
public  view  at  the  Queen's  Bazaar,  in  Oxford-street.  Charles 
hastily  made  out  a  catalogue,  and,  without  the  owner's  inter- 
ference, all  was  arranged  to  his  approval.     The  number  of  pic- 


894)  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

tures  amounted  to  nearly  four  hundred.  Some  idea  of  the  quality 
of  this  exhibition  may  be  formed  by  the  following  notice : — 

As  a  collection  of  pictures  it  is  not,  generally  speaking,  of  the  first 
— of  the  very  first  class ;  but,  as  an  illustration  of  Britain's  his- 
trionic history  during,  perhaps,  one  of  the  brightest  periods  that  ever 
beamed  upon  the  land,  it  is  unexampled,  and  utterly  impossible  to  be 
excelled.  "  There  hang  the  players  in  their  single  persons"  (we  quote  an 
essay,  "  The  old  actors,"  by  the  exquisite  Elia,  prefixed  to  the  cata- 
logue raisonnee  of  the  gallery),  "  and,  in  grouped  scenes  from  the 
Eestoration — Booths,  Quins,  Garricks,  justifying  the  prejudices  which 
we  entertain  for  them ;  the  Bracegirdles,  the  Grwynnes,  and  the  Oldfields, 
fresh  as  Gibber  has  described  them  !  the  Wofiington  (a  true  Hogarth) 
upon  a  couch,  dallying  and  dangerous.  The  screen  scene  in  Brinsley's 
famous  comedy,  with  Smith,  and  Mrs.  Abing^don,  whom  I  have  not 
seen, — and  the  rest — whom,  having  seen,  I  still  see  there.  There  is 
Henderson,  unrivalled  in  Oomus,\v\\ova.  I  saw  at  second-hand  in  Harley; 
Harley,  the  rival  of  Holman,  in  Horatio  ;  Holman,  with  the  bright 
glittering  teeth,  in  Lothario ;  and  the  paviour  sighs  in  Romeo,  the 
jolliest  person  ('  our  son  is  fat')  of  any  Hamlet  I  have  yet  seen,  with 
the  most  laudable  attempts  (for  a  personable  man)  at  looking  melan- 
choly ;  and  Pope,  the  abdicated  monarch  of  tragedy  and  comedy,  in 
Henry  the  Eighth  and  Lord  Townley.  There  hang  the  two  Aickins, 
brethren  in  mediocrity.  Broughton,  who  in  ^*7e/y  seemed  to  have  for- 
gotten that  in  prouder  days  he  personated  Alexander.  The  specious 
form  of  John  Palmer,  with  the  especial  effrontery  of  Bohhy.  Bensley, 
with  the  trumpet  tongue ;  and  little  Quick  (the  retired  Dioclesian  of 
Islington),  with  his  squeak  like  a  Bartlemy  fiddle."  The  essay  con- 
tinues in  this  strain  of  babbling  beauty  for  some  sentences ;  we  can, 
however,  only  quote  the  conclusion. 

"There  are  the  two  Bannisters,  and  Incledon,  and  Kelly,  and 
Diguum  (Diggy),  and  the  by-gone  features  of  Mrs.  Ward,  matchless 
in  Lady  Loverule;  and  the  collective  majesty  of  the  whole  Kemble 
family;  and  (Shakspeare's  woman)  Dora  Jordan;  and  by  her  two 
antics,  who  in  former  and  latter  days,  have  chiefly  beguiled  us  from  our 
griefs— Suett  and  Munden." 

The  gallery,  as  a  theatrical  collection,  is  unique,  unexampled,  and  in- 
capable of  being  excelled.  The  pictures,  as  works  of  art,  painted  by 
various  artists,  and  at  different  times,  must  of  necessity  be  unequal ; 
they  are  so.  But,  then,  it  is  not  as  works  of  art  that  we  go  to  gloat 
over  them :  it  is  to  revive  the  recollections,  mayhap  of  experience,  may- 
hap of  reading,  and  to  live  in  the  excellencies  of  the  past,  unheeding  and 
uncaring  for  the  present.  It  is  right  to  observe,  however,  that  there 
are  among  them  also  several  pictures  of  first-rate  merit.  We  would 
especially  particularize  "  Meg  Woffington,  lying  on  a  couch,  dallying 
and  dangerous,"  as  the  delightful  Elia  has  described  her;  George 
Frederick  Cooke;  Eleanor  Gwynne,  the  "Mistress  Nelly"  of  the  mob 
in  the  dissolute  days  of  Charles ;  Mrs.  Abingdon,  as  Lady  Bah  Lar' 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  3^5 

doon,  in  the  Maid  of  Oaks ;  Spranger  Barry ;  David  Garrick,  "  Little 
Davy,"  as  Dr.  Johnson  was  wont  familiarly,  more  than  welcomely,  to 
style  him ;  Mrs.  Bracegirdle ;  Mrs.  Oldfield ;  Mrs.  Catherine  Clive ; 
Mrs.  Robinson — poor  Mrs.  Robinson !  Miss  O'Neill,  the  chaste,  the 
virtuous ;  Joseph  Munden,  "  the  droll ;"  Michael  Kelly — here  be  his 
"  Reminiscences"  indeed ;  and,  finally,  for  the  present,  Charles  Mathews, 
the  founder  of  the  feast,  "  mine  host  of  Highgate,"  with  this  admirable 
addenda  to  the  brief  notice  of  his  name  in  the  catalogue. 
On  their  own  merits  modest  men  are  dumb. 

The  portraits  by  ZofFany  are  certainly  the  best,  though  there  are 
many  by  the  veteran  De  Wilde,  full  of  character  and  identity.  It  is 
curious  to  contrast  the  peculiarities  of  the  olden  actors  with  the  general 
common-place  air  of  contemporary  players.  There  is  nothing  so  sleek, 
so  unctuous  as  Suett ; — Harley,  for  instance,  has  a  5  per  cent.  20,000^. 
look — he  might  pass  for  a  successful  linendraper.  He  has  no  touch  of 
the  picturesque  vagabondism  of  Weston  and  the  immortal  Dicky. 
Farren,  too,  who  keeps  a  green  carriage  and  footman,  wants  the  oily 
coziness  of  rare  old  Quick.  Then,  there  is  Macready;  put  him  beside 
George  Cooke,  and  compared  to  the  consumer  of  brandy,  he  has  the 
staid,  severe  air  of  a  rich  dissenting  preacher.  Dowton  maintains  some- 
thing of  the  olden  time ;  he  looks  and  speaks  as  though  he  had  acted 
with  the  Jordans  and  the  Lewises. 

This  collection  presents  a  good  history  of  the  stage,  told  alike  by 
beautiful  and  curious  faces.  We  read  the  history  of  the  players,  of  the 
people  who  chatted  with  Dryden,  and  who  took  directions  from  Gold- 
smith (it  may  be  in  his  immortal  peach-coloured  coat) ;  of  the  fair  eyes 
tbat  captivated  kings ;  of  the  white  brows  that  gave  a  lustre  to  a 
coronet.  There  is  beauty  of  every  kind,  from  the  quick,  kind-hearted 
eyes  of  Nell  Gwynne  to  the  soft,  languishing  gaze  of  Maria  Dar- 
lington.* 

The  catalogue  has  been  drawn  up  by  Mr.  Mathews,  jun.,  with  great 
skill,  care,  and  judgment.  It  is  copious  and  well- arranged,  which  is 
not  the  least  part  of  the  treat. 

Mr.  Mathews  was  present  at  the  Covent-garden  Theatrical 
Fund  dinner  this  year,  and  in  the  course  of  the  evening  sang  a 
song  from  his  forthcoming  entertainment,  descriptive  of  an 
election,  in  which  he  gave  a  humorous  imitation  of  "  glorious 
Dan,"  whose  actions  and  grimaces  on  the  occasion  of  his  speech 
on  the  night  the  House  divided  after  the  adjourned  debate  on 
the  Irish  Coercion  Bill,  he  admirably  imitated.  The  pulling 
about  and  adjusting  the  wig,  the  loosening  of  the  neckirchief, 
and  the  divesting  himself  of  that  incumbrance,  he  ludicrously 
caricatured.     The  song  was  rapturously  applauded. 

*  Miss  Foote,  the  present  Countess  of  Harrington  ;  Maria  Darlmgton  was 
one  of  the  characters  in  which  she  was  particularly  admired. 


896  THE  LIFE  AND  COKRESPONDENCE  OF 

Mr.  Mathews  coramenced  anotlier  "  At  Home,"  at  the  Adelphi 
Theatre,  on  the  29th  April,  with  the  Fourth  Volume  of  his 
Comic  Annual  for  the  year  1833.* 

The  following  was  the  announcement  of  this  entertainment  :— 

PAET   THE   FIEST. 

This  page — address  to  the  House. — Contrasted  Characters. — Messrs. 
Verjuice  and  Honey. — The  Sun  in  London — cause  of  its  obscurity. 

Chant — Modern  Innovations. 

Private  Miseries  of  a  Dramatic  Writer. — Mr.  Eigmarole. — Inter- 
rupted Composition. — Melodrama  muddled. — Mr.  Josephus  Jollyfat,  a 
gastronomer  astronomer. — Lecture  on  the  Solar  System  to  his  Nephew, 
and  directions  for  Dinner  to  his  Cook. 

Song — A  Christening  in  Aldermanbury. 

EMBELLISHMENT. 

Waiting  for  a  Newspaper. — Scene,  a  coffee-room. 

Dramatis  Personce. 

Mr.  Tortoise,  with  the  Times. — Mr.  Martin  Swift,  waiting  for  the 
paper. — Schmidt,  German  waiter. 

PAET   THE   SECOND. 

Embellished  half-length  of  a  Lady. — Mrs.  Digby  Jones. — Conver- 
sazione.— Malapropriation  of  scientific  words. — Visit  to  the  Bank. — 
Cheapside  in  an  uproar. — Police  Report,  abridged  and  described  in 

Song — A  3fansion  Souse. 

Simplicity  of  the  English  Language. — Monsieur  Ventriloque's  defi- 
nition of  the  word  "  Box,"  twenty  significations. 

Song — Street  Melodists  (a  medley). 

Josephus  Jollyfat  (a  sketch  in  water-colours). — Sir  Charles  Prim- 
tattle. — Water  drinking. — Establishment  of  a  Temperance  Society. — 
Effects  of  Mr.  Cooper's  wonderful  Hydro-oxygen  Microscope  (with 
Jollyfat's  accurate  drawings  from  living  objects). — The  Water-tiger  and 
other  aquatic  monsters  of  the  Deep  (ditch). — New  Writs.— Visit  to  the 
Hustings. 

Song — A  General  Election. 

*  The  jomt  production  of  Messrs.  R.  B.  Peake  and  Charles  J.  Mathews. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  3^7 

PAKT   THE   THIED. 

A  Monopolylogue,  to  be  called  the 

COACH-WHEEL  OFF. 

Dramatis  personcB,  enacted  by  Mr.  Matheios : 

Colonel  Catarrh,  from  Calcutta Cold. 

Miss  Violet  Catarrh  .........  Warm. 

Crrumpy  coachman  to  the  Colonel LuJce-warm. 

Simon  Sparks,  a  blacksmith Blazing. 

Ensign  Fitzmarigold  MacMllady     ....  Red-hot. 

Living  adjuncts. — A  pair  of  coach  horses  and  a  cockatoo,  &c.  &c.  &c. 


398  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


CHAPTEE   XXXIX. 

Mr.  Mathews's  visit  to  Mr.  Eaton— His  dislike  of  transacting  business — His 
illness — His  visits  to  the  Zoological  Gardens — His  fondness  for  Brighton — 
Letter  to  Mrs.  Mathews — Effect  on  Mr.  Mathews  of  an  inattentive  auditor : 
anecdote — Letters  to  Mrs.  Mathews — Mr.  Mathews  anticipation  as  to  his 
biographer — Letter  to  Mrs.  Mathews  :  dreary  accident  on  Salisbury  Plain 
—Fatality  attending  Mr.  Mathews's  movements  from  home. 

I  iNDrcED  my  husband  at  the  beginning  of  July  to  visit  Mr. 
Eaton,  of  Stetchworth  Park,  near  Newmarket ;  for  I  thought 
I  saw  him  languishing  for  country  air.  There  he  was  detained 
by  an  attack  of  illness,  ascribed  to  any  but  the  real  cause.  Upon 
this  occasion  he  thus  wrote  to  me : — 

"  I  must  tell  you  my  situation.  On  getting  out  of  bed  yesterday  I 
found  myself  quite  helpless  with  weakness  in  my  loins,  which  Mr. 
Eaton  pronounces  lumbago ;  however,  I  could  not  walk,  or  stir  out  of 
the  house.  I  am  not  any  better  to-day,  as  I  can  only  move  with  the 
assistance  of  two  crutch  sticks,  and  cannot  attempt  to  stand  upright. 
If  I  am  not  at  home  on  Sunday  before  six  o'clock,  write  a  note  to  Lord 
Harrington,  and  explain  my  case." 

Alas!  his  "case"  was  then,  fortunately  perhaps  for  those  who 
loved  him,  inexplicable;  but  each  attack  was,  as  I  now  know, 
but  a  gradual  step  nearer  to  its  final  development.  He  adds, 
characteristically, — 

**  I  came  off,  as  usual,  without  enough  money  for  ray  journey  here 
and  back,  and  never  thought  about  it  till  to-day.  I  believe  the  smallest 
note  now  is  five  pounds,  so  you  must  send  me  one  by  return." 

I  have  often  thought  that  the  very  touch  of  coin  was  dis- 
agreeable to  him.  He  would  be  weeks  together  without  money 
in  his  pocket,  such  a  reluctance  had  he  to  its  use.  He  never 
paid  his  inn  bills  in  travelling  when  he  had  anybody  with  him 
who  could  settle  them,  either  from  dislike  of  transacting  busi- 
ness (which  was  indisputable),  or  the  bows  and  courtesies  which 
attended  such  transactions.     Antipathy  to  both  these  ceremo- 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  399 

nies  made  him  what  is  called  sneak  out  of  the  inn  ahout  ten 
minutes  before  closing  accounts,  and  walk  onward  that  the 
carriage  might  overtake  and  receive  him  out  of  the  town,  by 
which  he  escaped  all  staring,  and  the  eclat  of  leave-taking. 

On  his  apparent  restoration  to  his  usual  state  of  health,  he 
returned  home  from  Mr.  Eaton's,  tolerably  tranquil;  but  the 
worm  that  had  preyed  upon  him  unseen,  though  not  unfelt, 
made  fatal  ravages  upon  him  from  the  moment  his  spirits  had 
ceased  to  struggle  against  it,  and  when  the  motive  for  exercise 
and  causes  of  cheerfulness  were  removed.  In  London  his  spa- 
cious and  really  gay-looking  rooms  appeared  to  him  little  less 
than  a  dreary  prison.*  His  resource  was  the  Zoological  Gardens, 
where  he  was  sometimes  joined  by  Mr.  Henry  Alexander,  the 
celebrated  occulist,  to  whom  he  was  very  partial.  There  he 
would  drive  on  the  days  he  performed,  as  soon  as  he  had  break- 
fasted, and  sit  and  saunter  alternately  about  the  walks,  diverted 
from  his  sorrowful  reflections  by  the  variety  of  animals  and 
birds,  of  all  of  which  he  was  so  fond.  His  looks  suffered ;  yet 
as  he  never  spoke  of  bodily  pain  further  than  in  relation  to  his 
injured  hip,  I  ascribed  the  change  to  his  natural  discontent  at  a 
London  residence.  I  pressed  him,  as  often  as  circumstances 
would  admit,  to  pay  short  visits  to  Brighton,  which,  next  to 
rural  joys,  was  his  favourite  scene  of  recreation.  The  sea, 
whether  at  it,  or  on  it,  or  in  it,  was  to  him  a  delightful  element. 
He  would  sit  whole  days  upon  the  beach  or  sands  watching  its 
motion,  and  taking  an  absorbing  interest  in  every  distant  speck 
he  saw  floating.  Brighton,  moreover,  contained  several  friends 
to  whom  he  always  felt  an  unvarying  attachment.  Mr.  Horatio 
Smith,  whose  addresses  were  never  rejected  when  he  courted 
Mr.  Mathews's  presence  at  his  delightful  house,  where,  whether 
seated  amidst  its  amiable  domestic  circle,  or  in  a  more  extended 
society,  my  husband  found  himself  truly  happy.  Other  friends, 
Mr.  Lawrence  the  surgeon,  Mr.  Masquerier,  and  many  agreeable 
guests,  met  at  the  houses  of  these  gentlemen,  and  contributed 
to  complete  the  charm  and  attraction  which  Brighton  invariably 
possessed  for  him.  Mr.  Mathews  was  a  great  admirer,  too,  of 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Anderson,  socially  and  professionally,  and  always 
spoke  of  him  and  of  his  preaching  with  enthusiasm.  But  for 
these  pleasurable  resources  from  time  to  time,  I  know  not  how 
his  spirits  could  have  been  sustained  under  the  pressing  weight 
of  his  disappointments  and  unacknowledged  bodily  infirmities. 

*  In  a  letter  to  Mr.  Harding  he  dates  from  "  Great  Coffin  Street !"  but  he 
never  betrayed  to  me  his  impressions  to  this  extent. 


400  THE  LIFE  AND   COKRESPONDENCE  OF 

To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Worthing,  August  20tli,  1833. 

All  is  going  on  prosperously,  and  I  can  but  report  good  progress.  It 
is  highly  gratifying  that,  amidst  the  wreck  and  ruin  of  theatres,  I  am 
still  fresh  with  the  upper  ranks.  This  theatre  opened  in  July,  and 
closed  for  a  time,  from  entire  desertion.  The  town  is  unusually  empty. 
I  have  got  a  hotel  to  myself,  and  the  inhabitants  talk  of  being  ruined, 
if  September  does  not  pull  them  up.  Notwithstanding  this,  and  the 
disheartening  reports  of  "  I  am  afraid  Worthing  won't  answer  your 
purpose,"  &c.  I  found  every  seat  in  the  boxes  taken,  and  I  got  22Z.  for 
three  hours'  easy  work,  to  a  delightfully  merry  set.  I  call  it  easy,  when 
they  roar  as  they  did.  You  cannot  estimate  the  greatness  of  this 
success,  small  as  the  sum  shows.  I  have  already  got  what  Arnold 
would  have  given  me  for  a  fortnight. 

I  feel  much  for  you,  now  dear  Charley  is  gone  (love  to  him  when  you 
write),  and  wish  you  were  with  me.  If  you  think  a  change  of  air 
would  benefit  your  health,  I  would  recommend  you  to  join  me;  but  you 
best  know  how  far  it  would  be  advisable.  If  you  would  really  like  it, 
and  dislike  your  solitude  enough  to  embark  in  such  an  adventure,  I  shall 
be  delighted ; — write  and  say.  I  must  return  home  before  I  make  my 
"  grand  tower." 

C.  Mathews. 

It  was  quite  extraordinary  how  much  his  spirits,  while  per- 
forming, were  affected  by  the  discovery  of  any  inattention,  how- 
ever partial,  in  his  audience  :  his  eye  always  caught  a  view  of  a 
careless  observer,  or  a  sluggish  listener.  Like  Haman  the 
Agagite,  who,  "  in  the  glory  of  his  riches,  and  the  multitude  of 
his  children," — in  the  midst  of  universal  homage  and  honours, 
confessed  himself  dissatisfied.  "  Yet  all  this  availeth  me  no- 
thing," said  he,  "  so  long  as  I  see  Mordecai  the  Jew  sitting  at 
the  king's  gate."  These  were  the  words  of  this  ambitious 
minister.  My  husband  was  equally  discontented,  though  re* 
ceiving  the  applause  and  praise  of  assembled  thousands,  if  he 
saw  but  one  man  seated  before  him  who  "  bowed  not  nor  did 
him  reverence."  Unlike  Haman,  however,  he  did  not  "scorn," 
in  this  case,  "  to  lay  hands  on  Mordecai  alone,"  and  take  personal 
vengeance  on  one  who  "  stood  not  up  nor  was  moved  for  him." 

It  happened  that  one  night  of  his  "  At  Home,"  soon  after  he 
began  his  entertainment,  he  observed  in  the  second  row  of  the 
pit  a  heavy-looking  man  fast  asleep.  From  that  moment  he 
seemed  to  forget  the  rest  of  his  audience,  and  this  man  became 
his  "  peculiar  care" — his  Mordecai ;  and  the  homage  of  the  whole 
theatre  besides  was  nothing  to  him  while  this  one  man  stooped 
not  to  acknowledge  his  power.     Still  he  proceeded,  and  with  his 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  401 

usual  effects  ;  but  no  laughing,  no  clapping  of  hands,  disturbed 
the  sleeper.  Thunders  of  applause  had  no  effect  in  rousing  this 
lethargic  nuisance.  The  performer  began  to  flag  in  his  exertions  : 
he  gazed  on  Mordecai,  "  sighed  and  looked,  looked  and  sighed, 
sighed  and  looked  and  sighed  again,"  but  all  in  vain;  and  soon 
the  audience  began  to  observe  where  and  to  whom  his  anxious 
eyes  were  directed,  and  joined  gradually  in  the  interest  he  felt 
in  the  sluggard.  At  last,  Mr.  Mathews,  full  of  his  determined 
revenge,  took  occasion  from  some  favourable  portion  of  one  of 
his  subjects  to  utter  a  loud  "  hem !"  so  sharp  and  startling  in  its 
tone,  that  the  drowsy  pittite  shook  himself  from  his  rosy  slum- 
bers. Staring  about  in  a  bewildered  manner  for  a  minute,  he 
raised  his  still  sleepy  eyes  upon  the  performer,  who,  seizing  his 
advantage,  fixed  him  with  the  power  of  a  basilisk,  and  from  that 
instant  played  at  him,  and  addressed  every  point  to  him,  until  by 
degrees  he  entirely  awakened  this  first  of  the  Seven  Sleepers,  who, 
before  the  evening  was  over,  became  not  only  one  of  the  most 
attentive  of  the  auditors,  but  the  most  lively  amongst  them. 

To  Mrs.  Matketvs. 

Hyde,  August  28tb,  18—. 
Well ! — and  I  have  cleared  more  here  than  in  any  place  since  I  have 
been  out,  though  the  smallest  theatre  I  ever  acted  in ;  it  is  reputed  not 
to  hold  50/.  I  had  43/.  without  a  gallery,  I  may  say,  which  is  large  in 
proportion  to  the  pit,  and  was  nearly  empty.  The  pit  only  holds  81., 
and  the  boxes  positively  overflowed.     Delightful  merry  set,  and  the 

sensation  peculiar  as  to  exultation  over  S .*     Many  even  of  his 

followers  attended,  who  dare  not  attend  the  theatre  before  he  drove  the 
players  away.  It  has  ended  in  petitions  for  a  second  night.  I  have  at 
length  complied,  which  is  one  cause  for  my  delay ;  very  many  places 
are  already  let.  Huzza !  Nuts !  I  perform  at  Gosport  to-night.  It 
is  all  beauty  here.  We  see  Portsmouth,  and  the  wide  "  salt-sea  ocean  " 
from  every  window  in  this  house.  "  Beauty  weather,"  and  I  am  going 
to  'bark  in  "  stim''-hoa,L 

C.  Mathews. 


Ryde,  August  30th. 
At  the  time  I  was  undecided  about  my  return,  I  did  not  know  whether 
I  should  play  here  to-night  or  to-morrow.  Julian  Young  also  persuaded 
me  to  try  Andover.  He  was  to  meet  me  to-morrow  seven  miles  from 
Southampton,  drive  me  to  his  parsonage,  preach  to  me,  and  feed  me  on 
Sunday.  I  cannot  put  him  off,  as  my  letter  would  not  reach  him  till 
Sunday,  and  he  would  crane  his  neck  for  me  all  day  to-morrow  ;  so  on 
Monday,  look  for  me.     I  expected  very  little  at  Gosport,  but  had  a 

*  A  clergyman  who  had  been  preaching  against  theatrical  amuseanents, 

D  D 


402  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

better  hit  than  at  Portsmouth,  which  was  bad,  321. — being  one  hundred 
and  eighty-five  people  in  a  room,  very  quiet. 

I  had  at  last,  yesterday,  my  favourite  project  of  a  voyage  round  the 
island,  for  which  I  longed  so  much  last  year.  We  started  at  ten  o'clock, 
and  got  back  at  five  o'clock,  having  seen  every  inch  of  the  shore.  I  saw 
darling  little  Puckaster,*  but  none  ot  the  inhabitants,  which  made  me 
feel  melancholy.  Milly  Fozard,  Miss  Fro-zarde,  or  Fogard,  or  Fosset, 
as  she  is  called  here,  and  one  hundred  and  fifty  others,  accompanied  me. 
Too  many ;  but  the  day  was  so  delightful,  I  forgot  all  annoyances.  Sea 
passengers  have  the  best  of  it ;  for  there  is  nothing  but  brown  green  in 
the  island — all  burned  up. 

C.  Mathews. 


To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Chichester,  Thursday,  1833. 
The  races  do  not  finish  till  to-morrow,  but  I  mean  to  return  according 
to  promise.  I  wish  you  would  contrive  to  send  to  the  boatman  who 
carried  me  to  the  steam-boat,  to  tell  him  to  go  off"  to  the  same  steamer, 
which  leaves  Cowes  between  four  and  five  o'clock  to-morrow,  Friday, 
August  17th,  so  as  to  convey  me  to  Holly  Hill.  I  have  already  engaged 
him  for  the  job,  but  promised  to  give  him  notice  of  the  day.  Do  not  be 
alarmed  if  he  does  not  find  me  on  board,  as,  with  an  excess  of  racing 
population,  the  difficulties  of  getting  hence  may  be  great;  therefore,  if 
I  do  not  arrive,  be  sure  that  I  am  detained  by  circumstances  over  which 
I  have  no  control.  I  fell  on  my  legs  in  coming.  I  was  inquiring  of  the 
captain  of  the  steamer  if  I  could  get  from  Portsmouth  in  a  boat  to 
Chichester,  who  had  answered  "  No,"  wind  and  tide  being  both  adverse. 
This  was  overheard  by  Lord  Uxbridge,  who  volunteered  a  seat  in  his 
carriage,  which,  don't  be  astonished,  I  accepted,  and  he  put  me  down  at 
my  lodgings !  There  !  I  hung  my  head  when  the  passengers  assembled 
to  stare  at  my  little  boat,  and  sneaked  on  board ;  in  three  seconds  I  was 
surrounded  by  Sir  William  Curtis,  Mr.  Surman,  Captain  Gelstone, 
Lord  C.  Manners,  Lord  Uxbridge,  and  Captain  and  Lady  Agnes 
Byng,  &c. 

C.  Mathews. 

I  have  felt  and  scrupulously  acted  upon  the  feeling  throughout 
these  pages,  that  the  partialities  and  weaknesses  of  an  over- 
weening affection  should  meet  no  eyes  but  those  to  whom  they 
were  originally  addressed,  unless  occasionally,  in  trivial  instances, 
which  served  to  reveal  the  writer's  peculiar  kindness  of  dispo- 
sition. Yet,  in  the  following  letter  there  is  a  paragraph  so 
curious,  as  the  event  has  fallen  out,  that,  after  some  hesitation,  I 
have  determined  to  allow  it  to  remain.  I  solicit,  however,  the 
reader's  most  favourable  construction  of  this  act,  while  I  depre- 

*  The  beautiful  residence  of  our  dear  friends,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Vine. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  403 

cate  the  severity  and  "  odious  comparisons"  likely  to  cross  the 
mind  at  the  revelation  of  so  partial  a  judgment. 

The  implied  parallel  between  my  weak  powers  and  the  giant 
force  of  him  referred  to  may  reasonably  expose  me  to  ridicule, 
unless  judged  with  good  nature,  and  the  publication  of  it 
ascribed  to  the  sole  motive  of  proving  the  remarkable  fact  that 
my  husband  thought  me  the  fittest  person  to  assist  him  in  the 
task  of  writing  his  life — a  fact  I  had  totally  forgotten  till  I 
began  to  arrange  his  letters  for  my  present  purpose. 

To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Worcester,  Oct.  11,  1833. 

Having  now  completed  the  aifair,  I  write,  as  you  wished,  to  inform 
you  "  how  it  answered."  I  have  not  one  fault  to  find  with  the  carriage. 
It  was  put  to  the  test  by  cross  roads,  perhaps  the  worst  I  shall  encounter, 
and  nothing  can  run  easier.  It  has  all  the  effect  in  sound  of  the 
lightest  chaise.  Not  even  a  look  at  it  from  the  innkeepers  as  to  weight ; 
and  one  horse  from  the  inn  at  Banbury  drew  it  to  the  theatre  with 
perfect  ease.  It  is  evidently,  though  out  of  the  common  way,  not 
remarkable  enough  to  create  a  mob.  Indeed,  it  was  hardly  looked  at 
in  our  exit  from  Banbury.  I  am  sure  you  will  be  deli^'hted,  as  I  wish 
you  to  be,  at  this  termination  of  your  labours.  "  The  Reverend"  went 
with  me  to  Banbury ;  and  we  had  4?.  more  than  he  said  the  theatre 
would  hold — namely,  21Z.  8*.  It  was  crammed.  The  boxes  hold 
seventy  people ;  the  gallery  fifty  ! ! 

We  dined  at  Doctor  Rattray's  on  Tuesday.  On  my  arrival  here, 
William  Crisp  would  insist  on  my  coming  to  his  cot  at  St.  John's ; 
and  here  I  am  in  a  garden,  and  quite  at  my  ease,  which  I  could  not  be 
at  mine  inn  ;  for  they  are  coaching  all  day  and  night,  and  Mr.  Dent, 
my  former  host,  is  at  Brighton. 

If  you  do  not  tickle  up  my  matter  for  me  after  I  have  put  it  down, 
I  will  not  continue  my  "  Life."  If  you  will,  I  go  to  work;  and  I  am 
sui*e  you  will  be  a  Hook  in  my  reminiscences.*  Say  you  will ;  I  only 
want  this  to  take  off  my  nervousness,  and  I'll  write  like  wildfire. 

C.  Mathews. 

Could  the  self-depreciating  writer  of  the  above  have  been  told 
that  his  manuscript,  then  only  begun,  was  destined  never  to  be 
finished  by  his  own  hand,  how  would  he  have  been  satisfied  to 
know  that  it  was  reserved  for  the  person  whose  power  he  so 
overrated  to  complete  his  undertaking,  when  "  grief-shot,'* 
mind  weakened,  and  health  enfeebled  by  his  loss !  Could  he 
have  anticipated  that  he  to  whom  he  alluded  would  at  one  time 
meditate  a  continuance  of  his  undertaking,  and  that  eventually 
the  task  would  fall  (literally  fall)  wholly  into  the  unpractised, 

*  Mr.  Theodore  Hook  edited  Mr.  Michael  Kelly's  "  K«miniscences.'* 
dd2 


401  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

unassisted  hands  of  her  he  proposed  should  only  aid  his  own 
work — might  he  not,  with  all  his  partiality,  have  deplored  that 
he  ever  begun  it  ? 

I  have  set  down  probably  much  that  may,  like  the  Scotch 
lady's  stor}'-,  be  condemned  as  "  no  worth  the  teUing,"  and  be 
rated  with  Gratiano's  "  infinite  deal  of  nothing ;"  yet,  in  relation 
to  personal  peculiarities,  trifling  incidents  sometimes  materially 
assist  to  dehneate  character,  as  small  touches  of  the  pencil  serve 
to  give  force  and  finish  to  a  likeness.  My  husband's  friends  saw 
only  detached  portions  of  his  character ;  those  alone  who  lived 
with  him  could  view  the  whole  of  its  varieties :  and  in  this 
respect  I  possess  an  advantage.  From  long  observation,  I  am 
enabled  to  show  every  shade  of  his  mind  and  disposition,  though 
perhaps  not  to  give  their  just  measure  and  value.  This  solitary 
advantage  over  a  more  competent  biographer  is  the  chief  recon- 
cilement to  my  undertaking,  and  my  feeble  effort  to  support  my 
husband's  fame  and  character.  It  will,  I  hope,  act  in  a  similar 
way  upon  the  public,  before  whom  I  have  ventured,  and  for 
which  presumption  not  I,  but  circumstance,  must  be  blamed. 

My  husband's  next  letter  communicates  one  of  those  incidents 
which  it  seemed  his  peculiar  fate  to  experience. 

To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Weymouth,  November  6th,  1833. 

What  mystery  is  it  that  directs  my  destiny  ?  Am  I  reserved  for 
some  remarkable  close  to  my  adventurous  life,  or  am  I  to  hope  a  calm 
and  quiet  close  to  my  chapter  of  accidents.  That  I  am  protected 
amidst  dangers  I  cannot  mistake,  nor  can  I  help  being  bewildered  with 
the  why  do  I  meet  with  more  buffets  than  any  of  my  friends. 

I  am  well,  and  have  suffered  nothing,  and  therefore  would  never  have 
related  my  adventure  to  you  but  that  it  may  be  erroneously  reported 
from  other  quarters.  As  my  servant  was  absent,  and  the  carriage 
obliged  to  be  in  Salisbury  on  Monday,  I  was  too  glad  to  spend  all 
Sunday  with  Charles  Young  and  Julian,  in  preference  to  remaining 
alone  at  Salisbury.  Julian  volunteered  to  drive  me,  the  distance  being 
only  twelve  miles  from  his  house — eighteen  from  Andover — beautiful 
day  ;  Charles  Young  accompanied  us  on  horseback  six  miles  across  the 
Plain.  In  the  way,  they  told  me  it  was  only  a  bridle-road,  but  that 
they  knew  every  inch  of  it,  and  it  was  as  pleasant  to  travel  over  as  a 
macadamized  road.  They  described  the  difficulties  people  met  with  in 
finding  their  way  off  the  Plain.  Sir  John  Paulin  had  last  year  been 
lost,  and  literally  remained  on  horseback  all  night.  About  an  hour 
after  Charles  Young  left  us  we  came  to  very  rough  ground,  and  I  was 
shaken  once  or  twice  enough  to  make  me  cry — Oh  !  At  last  a  col- 
lection of  ruts  made  it  evident  that  wheels,  springs,  and  all  were  in 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  405 

danger.  Julian  paused,  and  proclaimed  the  necessity  of  getting  out  to 
lead  the  horses  over,  requesting  me  to  remain  within.  Oh,  had  I ! — 
my  impulse  was  not  strong  enough  to  make  me  immediately  decide ; 
but  the  Providence  that  watches  over  all,  and  has  hitherto  protected 
me,  was  my  guide;  I  got  out,  and  in  a  half  minute  an  agonizing 
exclamation  of  "  Whoa!"  was  followed  by  my  companion  struggling  with 
the  horses,  and  before  I  could  scramble  with  my  weak  limbs  to  assist, 
we  saw  the  affrighted  wild  animals  galloping  at  speed  awa}^  with  the 
light  vehicle  over  Salisbury  Plain.  It  was  undulating  ground,  and 
from  their  ascending  a  steep  bit  they  were  totally  lost  to  our  view  in  a 
very  short  time.  I  advised  Julian  to  run  as  fast  as  possible ;  and  if  he 
could  keep  them  in  view  he  might,  at  all  events,  see  the  result.  He 
left  me — he  followed  in  the  track,  mounted  the  hill,  and  then  I  lost 
sight  of  him. 

I  remained,  I  believe,  but  a  few  minutes,  when  I  saw  him  returning, 
waving  his  hat  over  his  head.  I  concluded  the  carriage  and  horses 
were  found  or  stopped.  No !  he  had  not  seen  them ;  but,  all  anxiety 
for  me,  came  to  say  he  knew  one  landmark  on  the  hill,  which  if  I  could 
w^alk  or  crawl  to,  he  should  know  how  to  find  me ;  that  he  had  ascer- 
tained we  were  within  a  mile  and  a  half  of  the  high  road,  and  then  but 
four  miles  from  Salisbury.  He  assured  me  if  he  could  not  find  his 
carriage  he  would  go  or  send  for  a  chaise  to  fetch  me,  and  left  his  coat 
in  my  care  that  he  might  run  the  lighter,  and  again  departed,  on  the 
hopeless  errand  of  overtaking  two  horses  galloping  at  the  rate  of  twenty 
miles  an  hour. 

I  shall  not  attempt  to  describe  my  feelings  when  left  alone  on  this 
wild  heath.  1  call  upon  your  imagination  to  assist  me.  "  Helpless, 
forgotten,  sad,  and  lame,"  I  lay  on  the  bare  ground,  after  praying  on 
my  knees  to  be  rescued  from  my  desolation,  and  returning  thanks  for 
my  miraculous  preservation;  for  had  I  remained  in  the  carriage,  Julian, 
would  have  had  the  additional  horror  of  seeing  me  borne  away  by  the 
desperate  animals,  for  the  pole  was  broken  by  the  uneven  road,  and  his 
power  of  holding  them  entirely  taken  away  by  a  blow  from  the  point  ot 
it  on  his  breast,  which  compelled  him  to  quit  his  hold. 

My  reflections  on  the  nature  of  my  losses,  and  the  possibility  of  re- 
pairing them — having  the  whole  of  my  luggage  with  me,  money  and 
all  packed  within,  &c. — you  must  fancy.  My  bag  had  supported  my 
legs,  and  was  loose  in  the  front  of  the  vehicle,  and  the  portmanteau  not 
secure,  as  it  was  an  entirely  open  carriage  without  a  head.  I  was  en- 
cumbered with  my  heavy  coat.  I  got  on  my  legs,  and,  without  a  stick 
(which  was  left  in  the  four-wheeler),  proceeded  a  short  distance,  but 
then,  exhausted,  sat  down.  My  gouty  toe,  after  being  what  I  thought 
well,  gave  way  (not  that  it  is  gout),  and  I  crept  on  my  hands  and  knees 
to  the  furze  on  the  hill,  where  I  was  directed  ;  altogether  about  half  a 
mile,  it  is  supposed.  There  I  was  seated,  with  a  possibility  of  remaining 
all  night.  The  world  before  me,  but  no  choice.  Not  a  house,  not  u 
human  being  to  be  seen — a  wild  waste  immeasurable,  and  a  shower  of 
snow  to  cheer  my  spirits.     After  reflecting  on  the  cold  ground  I  know 


406  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

not  how  long,  I  saw  at  about  half  a  mile  distant  a  man  on  horseback; 
I  waved  my  hat,  my  handkerchief — he  saw  me  not;  I  shouted,  he  heard 
me  not ;  a  human  voice,  however  rough  and  dissonant,  would  have  been 
music  to  my  ear.  He  seemed  to  direct  his  course  towards  me — good 
God  !  'tis  Julian !  he  brings  me  rescue  from  this  comfortless  bed.  Again 
I  shouted,  again  I  waved  my  silken  signal — still  there  was  no  recogni- 
tion, I  thought  it  could  be  no  other  than  Julian — surely  he  must  see 
me  if  it  be  he  ;  here  I  am  at  his  own  appointed  spot.*  'Tis  he — 'tis 
he, — alas !  no.  He  turns  from  me,  and  again  I  am  left,  perhaps  to 
perish,  unheeded,  helpless ;  no  friendly  voice  to  cheer  me,  no  human 
arm  to  lift  me  from  the  sod.  The  only  chance  of  help  I  had  seen  dis- 
appeared in  the  dip  of  the  hill  in  the  old  Koman  road,  the  various  fosses 
of  which  met  my  eye  and  impeded  the  view  of  the  road,  which  was 
nearer  than  I  thought.  In  a  short  time  the  horseman,  to  my  almost 
wild  delight,  reappeared;  the  movements  of  the  form,  the  turn  of  the 
head,  indicated  an  inquiring  look — the  rider  was  evidently  in  search  of 
an  object,— he  was,  a  wretched  one.  My  hopes  revived.  'Tis  an  iron 
grey, — I  know  the  horse ;  it  is  Julian  :  I  waved  my  hat, — I  could  not 
get  up ;  'tis  a  countersign — he  sees  me,  he  waves  in  response.  My 
knees  obeyed,  though  my  legs  had  refused  their  office,  and  I  returned 
loud  thanks  to  God,  for  it  was  evident  the  horses  had  been  stopped. 

Our  meeting  was  curious.  An  hysteric  affection  appeared  to  make 
him  laugh  at  the  accident.  He  told  me  that  after  the  ponies  had  run 
tor  a  mile  and  a  half  they  encountered  the  stump  of  a  tree,  about  four 
feet  high,  which  had  impeded  their  course,  completely  overturned  the 
carriage,  and  by  a  sudden  shock  broke  the  traces  all  to  atoms,  by  which 
they  were  disencumbered  and  released  from  their  clattering  followers 
and  all  their  responsibility ;  and  that  they  must  have  remained  in- 
stantly still,  for  there  Julian  found  them,  close  by  the  remains  of  the 
phaeton. 

There  was  a  camp  of  gipsies  near  the  spot,  and  to  their  immortal 
honour  be  it  known,  that  though  they  had  assembled  round  the  wreck 
before  Julian  appeared,  and  had  abundance  of  time  to  appropriate  our 
scattered  luggage — for  the  bags  might  have  been  popped  into  their  camp, 
and  we  should  have  concluded  that  they  had  been  shaken  out,  and  that 
all  search  was  useless — they  had  not  touched  an  article :  all  was  safe, 
even  to  three  sticks  and  an  umbrella — nothing  shaken  out  till  the 
overturn.  Is  it  not  marvellous  ?  Had  not  this  stump,  and  a  fosse 
within  their  sight  have  impeded  them,  it  would  be  useless  to  conjecture 
whether  they  would  have  galloped  five  or  twenty  miles,  or  whether  they 
had  been  found  at  Southampton  or  Andover. 

I  mounted  (with  the  assistance  of  a  gipsy,  who  fortunately  appeared, 
and  Julian  on  all  fours,  I  treading  on  his  back)  his  barebacked  pony, 
and  without  stirrups,  of  course.  He  led  the  animal,  and  on  foot  pro- 
tected me,  forgetting  all  his  cares  and  losses  in  his  affectionate  anxiety. 

*  It  will  be  obvious  that  Mr.  Mathews  mixes  a  mock  romantic  style  in  this 
description,  in  order  to  lighten  the  serious  effect  the  accident  might  otherwise 
have  upon  my  feelings  in  reading  the  account  of  it. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  407 

Thus,  in  agony  from  hip  and  toe,  did  I  accomplish  three  miles.  I 
managed  to  accomplish  it,  but  nature  at  last  was  exhausted,  and  I  pro- 
claimed my  inability  to  proceed.  We  were  then  two  miles  from  Salis- 
bury, and  I  sat  down  by  the  roadside.  At  this  moment  a  stage-coach 
most  opportunely  presented  itself;  we  got  on  the  top,  a  man  from  the 
roof  descended  to  lead  the  pony,  and  we  arrived  safely.  Julian  imme- 
diately took  a  chaise,  and  at  six  o'clock  returned  with  every  article  safe, 
the  dilapidated  phaeton  excepted ;  this  had  been  fastened  with  ropes  and 
attached  to  the  chaise.  I  gave  my  entertainment  that  night  in  Salis- 
bury ;  and  you  may  suppose  what  were  my  balmy  reminiscences  of  such 
events  when  I  laid  my  head  on  my  pillow. 

Charles  Mathews. 

There  seemed,  indeed,  a  fatality  attending  all  my  husband's 
movements  from  home.  Hovv  many  severe  and  dangerous  acci- 
dents did  he  encounter  in  the  course  of  his  life  !  First  in 
Ireland,  in  1794,  he  was  almost  drowned  (I  might  almost  say 
actually,  for  he  suffered  all  the  pains  of  such  a  death),  and  was 
taken  out  of  the  water  in  a  state  of  total  insensibility.  In  1801 
a  heavy  platform  fell  upon  him  while  acting,  and  he  was  taken  off 
the  stage  as  dead.  In  1803  he  was  violently  thrown  from  his 
horse  at  a  review,  and  was  threatened  with  dangerous  conse- 
quences ever  after.  In  1807,  on  a  shooting  party,  his  gun  burst 
and  shattered  his  hand,  and  he  was  many  weeks  after  under  a 
surgeon's  care.  In  1814  he  was  thrown  oub  of  his  tilbury,  and 
became  lame  for  life  !  In  1817  another  horse  fell  going  down  a 
steep  hill  in  a  tilbury,  and  Mr.  Mathews  was  thrown  over  the 
animal's  head  and  severely  cut  and  bruised.  In  1827,  while  in 
a  floating-bath  at  Brighton,  the  "life-preserver"  turned  round 
and  forced  him  upon  his  face,  in  which  position  he  must  have 
been  suffocated  had  not  a  gentleman  witnessed  the  accident  and 
rescued  him  from  his  danger.*  In  the  year  1829  the  roller  of 
the  drop-scene  on  the  Plymouth  stage  fell  upon  his  head  while 
"  At  Home"  there,  and  he  was  taken  up  to  all  appearance  dead, 
and  remained  many  minutes  in  a  state  of  insensibility.  Four 
years  after  this  precisely  the  same  accident  occurred  in  the 
Devonport  theatre  and  with  the  same  results !  In  1883,  while 
returning  from  an  evening  walk,  a  large  dog  ran  between  his 
legs  and  knocked  him  down  with  a  violent  shock.  This  accident 
again  placed  him  under  a  surgeon's  hands.  A  few  weeks  after, 
while  recovering  from  this  hurt,  another  dog  threw  him  off  a 

*  Should  this  meet  the  eye  of  the  humane  stranger,  let  it  iaform  him  that 
it  was  a  cause  of  deep  mortification  to  Mr.  Mathews,  that  in  losing  his  card 
before  he  left  Brighton,  he  was  prevented  from  calling  upon  his  preserver  in 
London,  and  expressing  his  thanks  for  his  aid. 


408  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

garden  seat,  and  painfully  injured  his  hand  and  wrist.  But  the 
last  trial  was  the  most  severe  since  that  of  1814. 

When  all  these  accidents  are  remembered,  it  would  appear 
that  he  bore  about  him  little  less  than  a  "  charmed  life."  That 
he  escaped  as  he  did,  twice  from  the  curtain  peril,  was  miraculous, 
when  we  consider  the  impetus  given  to  the  roller  of  the  drop- 
scene  as  it  falls. 

The  situation  in  which  he  found  himself  on  Salisbury  Plain — 
the  last  of  his  ''  accidents  by  flood  and  field,"  was  quite  as 
memorable  as  that  which  injured  his  bodily  health  for  life ;  that 
left  a  lasting  personal  evidence  of  its  severity — this  an  indelible 
impression  on  his  mind.  Let  those  who  marvel  at  the  stress 
laid  ou  this  last  peril  travel  over  that  dreary  waste  in  the  month 
of  November,  in  severe  weather ;  let  them  imagine  their  limbs 
helpless  and  in  pain  from  accumulated  injuries,  and  then,  after 
the  agitation  of  such  a  misadventure,  let  them  reflect  on  its 
possible  consequences  to  himself,  on  the  approach  of  night,  with 
a  possibility  of  not  being  discovered  by  his  absent  friend  when 
he  returned  to  seek  him  on  a  plain  where  there  was  scarcely  a 
distinguishing  feature  to  mark  the  spot  on  which  he  had  left  him. 

On  hearing  my  husband's  oral  report  of  his  feelings  from  this 
accident  I  ceased  to  lament  the  event,  for  I  became  perfectly 
assured  that  it  left  a  more  lively  faith  upon  his  mind,  and  dis- 
posed him  to  meditate  more  frequently  and  more  deeply  upon  a 
future  state  ;  and  his  reliance  upon  his  Creator,  who  had  so 
signally  shown  His  protection  to  him  here,  and  preserved  him 
from  so  many  perils,  was  accompanied  by  a  firmer  belief  that  He 
would  not  forsake  him  hereafter.  With  these  impressions  full 
in  my  recollection,  I  can  never  think  or  hear  of  Salisbury  Plain 
without  considering  it  a  hallowed  spot,  consecrated  by  the 
bended  knees  of  pious  supplication  and  the  upraised  voice  of 
prayer  and  thanksgiving  to  the  Most  High  from  a  soul  sancti- 
fied by  His  mercies. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  409 


CHAPTER  XL. 

Serious  illness  of  Mr.  Mathews — His  sufferings — Letters  to  Mrs.  Mathews  ; 
Corbyn's  Hall  ;  Fop's  first  appearance  on  any  stage  ;  Mr.  Mathews's  recep- 
tion at  Birmingham — Letter  to  the  Rev.  Thomas  Speidell — Letters  to  Mrs. 
Mathews — Inns  ;  application  from  the  Coveut-garden  Theatrical  Fund — Mr. 
Mathews's  speech  at  the  Fund  dinner. 

The  following  letters  will  show  how  rapidly  my  husband's 
disorder,  which  was  destined  to  be  fatal,  was  gaining  ground, 
and  at  the  same  time  how  he  rallied  from  time  to  time,  owing 
to  the  buoyancy  of  his  spirits  ;  still  I  entertained  no  alarm  for 
the  ultimate  result  of  the  varying  symptoms. 

I  was  deeply  distressed  that  the  poor  sufferer  should  have 
occasion  to  fatigue  himself  under  such  visible  indisposition ;  but 
1  little  deemed  that  his  strong  principle  and  great  fortitude 
were  urging  him  to  exertions  that  every  moment  forced  him 
nearer  to  his  tomb  !  I  am  now  assured  that  he  did  not  reveal 
half  his  sufferings,  but  struggled  secretly  through  them,  from  a 
rigorous  determination  to  pursue  his  duty  at  all  risks,  and  with 
equal  determination  to  prevent  my  knowing  the  extent  of  his 
efforts. 

It  may  be  observed,  in  proof  of  his  anxiety  to  keep  my  mind 
at  ease  and  to  lighten  it,  when  necessity  compelled  communica- 
tions of  a  distressing  nature,  such  as  accidents  or  illness  happen- 
ing to  him  when  from  home,  that  he  always  contrived  to  relate 
them  in  a  jesting  or  playful  manner,  in-  order  to  divest  them  of 
the  power  to  occasion  the  painful  effects  they  were  otherwise 
calculated  to  excite  in  my  mind.  What  forbearance  did  all  this 
require ! — what  innate  goodness  of  heart  did  it  reveal ! — and 
what  an  unpaid  debt  of  gratitude  has  it  left  upon  my  memory  ! 

To  Mrs.  Mathews.. 

Corbyn's  Hall,  Dudley,  Jan.  7tb,  1834. 
Here  T  am  laid  up  in  cotton,  "  presarved  away" — but  unfit  for  work. 
I  am  sewed  up.      That  Drury-lane  box  !*     I  felt  then  to  a  certainty 

*  He  attributed  a  hoarsenesa  from  which  he  at  this  time  suffered,  to  a  cold 


410  THE  LIFE  AND  COKRESPONDENCE  OF 

what  must  hapT>en.  I  am  hoarse  and  cannot  act.  Had  I  not  felt  com- 
pelled to  go  to  Cheltenham,  I  mig-ht  have  fought  it  off,  but  three  hours' 
-tearing  of  a-daraaged  throat  must  succeed  in  destroying  it.  Sleeping  in 
a  cold  mail  all  to  myself  could  not  have  improved  it;  and  I  felt  on 
Saturday  morning,  much  as  you  did  on  Christmas-day,  when  you  were 
obliged  to  write  with  a  pencil  instead  of  speaking.  None  can  feel  better 
for  me  than  yourself;  but  imagine  that  you  had  been  advertised  to 
t;ing  in  a  day  or  two,  and  you  will  comprehend  my  situation.  On 
3Ionday  here,  I  issued  handbills  and  postponed.  My  wheezing  is  very 
troublesome. 

I  had  an  invitation  from  my  namesake,  Charles  Mathews's  brother 
William,  to  spend  my  two  or  three  days,  two  miles  from  Dudley  and 
three  from  Stourbridge,  where  1  was  to  have  appeared  on  Monday. 
O.  Mathews  drove  me  here  on  Sunday,  and  I  am  luckily  in  clover — 
delightful  house — cosey — and  with  real  comforts.  He  is  an  iron-master 
and  proprietor  of  collieries — so  we  are  too  warm — as  he  is.  I  am 
grateful,  very  highly  «o,  indeed,  that  I  should  be  so  situated;  for 
Hagley,  charming  in  summer,  is  but  a  village  inn, — and  Stourbridge, 
oh !  such  a  dungeon  !  I  am  really  welcome  and  quite  SpeideWized  ;  so 
be  quite  easy  about  me,  excepting  the  money  part  of  the  business. 
However,  it  is  useless  to  repine;  no  help,  and  no  hope,  but  rest.  I 
might  have  been  in  a  narrow  street  all  the  time.  I  am  now  looking  at 
five  miles  of  beautiful  view,  with  the  Wrekin  to  boot.  I  had  forty  miles 
journey  on  Saturday,  and  it  poured  incessantly  from  the  time  I  left 
Oxford  at  half-past  two  Friday  morning,  until  last  night  ten.  To-day 
summer, — lovely  sunshine ;  I  hope  to  hear  that  your  cold  has  abated. 
I  do  not  expect  you  can  be  yet  well. 

■C.  M. 


To  Mrs.  Mathews, 

Corbyn's  Hall,  Jan.  9th,  1834. 

~T  am  as  per  last  with  respect  to  the  wheezing,  &c.,  but  my  working 
voice  is  greatly  improved ;  my  little  boys  can  reply  to  me,  and  I  return 
to  my  shop  to-morrow.* 

*'  No  dog  can  behave  better :"  I  was  afraid  of  Fop  here  at  a  private 
house,  but  he  has  duty  to  do  all  day ;  large  lawn,  lots  of  sparrows  to 
drive  away,  and  Mrs.  Mathews  is  fond  of  pets,  so  he  is  in  clover  as  well 
as  his  master.  He  sleeps  in  my  room,  and  not  a  sound  do  I  ever  hear 
until  he  ascertains  I  am  "waking  up."  He  is  the  quietest  and  nicest 
of  animals,  I  therefore  do  rejoice  I  brought  him  away  from  "  the 
fancy. "t  I  have  not  a  notion  what  "the  tub"  contains.  I  am  also  at 
a  loss  about  Mr.  Mortimer  Drummond. 

and  comfortless  private  box.  Alas  !  the  occasional  failure  of  his  voice  at  this 
time  was  a  part  of  his  disorder. 

*  Whenever  his  voice  had  suifered  in  any  way,  the  test  of  its  recovering  was 
his  being  able  to  speak  in  the  tones  of  children. 

*t  This  little  favourite,  a  black-and-tan  foxhound-terrier,   and  the  most 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  411 

"  One  of  the  most  attractive  and  best  written  stories  in  the  work*  is, 
we  understand,  that  of  C.  Mathews,  jun.,  the  author  of  *  Mj  Wife's 
Mother ;'  it  is  entitled  *  The  Black  Riband.'  " 

Pouring  all  yesterday  and  to-day.  To  be  sure,  I  could  not  go  out  ii 
it  was  fine. 

CM. 


To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Birmingbam,  Jan.  13th,  1834. 

My  poor  dear  sufferer,  your  letter  has  made  me  very  unhappy :  ill  and 
alone !  Pray  write,  if  but  one  line,  by  return,  to  say  how  you  are  : 
pray  do. 

Fop  made  his  first  appearance  on  any  stage  last  night,  Cheltenham. 
He  has  always  remained  perfectly  still  in  one  spot  for  three  hours 
during  the  performance,  but  last  night  Mr.  Moss  left  the  door  open 
where  he  had  been  deposited,  and  just  as  I  was  saying,  "  This  young 
gentleman's  name  isNorval,"  he  found  me,  and  wagged  his  tail;  but  I 
never  saw  him ;  yet  did  it  he  did.     He  gives  no  trouble  whatever. 

I  am  charming  well  again  as  to  voice,  but  my  cold  is  not  quite  gone. 
I  did  my  work,  however,  marvellously,  in  so  large  a  theatre.  I  have  so 
often  related  the  greatest  thing  that  I  have  done,  that  I  thought  wonder 
could  no  i'urther  go.  I  think  you  Heard  me  declare  I  would  not  give 
25/.  for  the  Brum,  theatre ;  Crisp,  however,  came  over  from  Worcester 
at  Christmas,  and  being  more  confident  as  to  my  attraction  than  I  am, 
bargained  for  bOl.  lor  three  nights.  I  fear  to  announce  the  result, 
ibr  the  thirty  and  forty  pounders  I  am  coming  to  soon  will  appear  too 
insignificant  to  excite  your  attention.  I  had  this  great  theatre  crammed 
fidl,  every  seat  below  taken,  and  224Z.  in  the  house  :  nearly  one  thou- 
sand persons  in  the  gallery.  Since  the  early  English  Opera  days,  I 
have  never  equalled  this  quite  alone,  and  on  my  own  account.  I  cannot 
expect  half  as  much  again ;  but  there  is  now  a  respectable  box-book  for 
to-morrow. — What  a  thing!  The  quiet  attention  of  such  numbers 
of  manufacturers  up  above  is  perfectly  curious. 

I  go  to  Wolverhampton  on  .Friday  for  one  night. 

Cod's  sounds  1  and  was  that  the  end  of  the  tale  of  a  Tuh.  But  what 
of  Mr.  Drummond  ? 

C.  M. 


To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Corbyn's  Hall,  20th  Jan.  1834. 
I  slept  here  last  night  in  my  way  to  Stourbridge,  where  I  dine  to-day, 
sleep  at  Hagley,  and  proceed  for  my  third  ni^ht  to  Birmingham  to- 

iutelligent  of  its  race,  had  been  stolen  several  times  since  our  return  to 
Loudon. 

«  Heath's  "Book  of  Beauty." 


412  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

morrow.  I  meet  with  nothing  but  kindness  and  hospitality  in  these 
parts.  I  am  nearly  restored — all  but  a  little  wheezing.  I  h  id  501.  at 
Wolverhampton,  which  is  about  as  much  as  the  house  will  hold;  but 
these  small  figures,  as  I  warned  you,  must  be  looked  at  as  great  in 
such  towns.  What  a  week  !  I  don't  expect  less  than  1001.  to-morrow, 
and  that  will  be  such  a  week  as  ! !  never — Five  hundred  I'rom  Monday 
till  Tuesday — for  my  second  at  Brum  my  was  130Z.  Perfectly  won- 
derful !  but  remember  my  expenses, — don't  be  too  much  dazzled.  How 
fortunate  Crisp  had  more  confidence  in  my  attraction  than  I  had  myself, 
for  I  had  indignantly  refused  to  give  the  261.  for  the  theatre. 

From  hence  I  proceed  to  my  Yorkshire  estates. 

I  can  do  no  more  than  I  am  doing :  thank  God  for  my  strength  and 
willingness  to  work ! 

Fop's  second  appearance  was  not  so  effective  as  his  first.  It  was  at 
Wolverhampton,  where  he  was  not  noticed  even  by  a  laugh,  and  he  sat 
down  contentedly  before  the  green  baize  table  and  waited  until  I  left 
the  stage.     Love  to  dear  Charley. 

CM. 


To  the  JRev.  Thomas  Speidell. 

Lichfield,  Jan.  23rd,  1834. 

My  vert  deae  Speidell, — Your  first  wish,  if  I  know  you,  is  to 
hear  of  my  success.  I  have  to  record,  then,  my  greatest  week  out  of 
London,  and  our  nearly  greatest  week  in.  Our  bathing  machinery,  too, 
is  a  hit ;  the  ladies  of  the  bath  have  enticed  instead  of  driving  away 
the  ladies  from  the  boxes.  Here  Yates  has  beat  me  in  judgment 
hollow ;  and  I  am  free  to  acknowledge  it.  Last  week  produced  nearly 
700Z.  ... 

Mrs.  Mathews  has  been  seriously  ill :  her  disorder  finished  with 
jaundice.  She  is  now  staying  with  some  friends  at  Clapham.  Charles 
has  been  acting  Mr.  Simpson  at  Woburn ;  the  Duchess,  Mrs.  Simpson 
—he  says  capitally. 

I  paid  my  visit  to  Sir ,  Knight,  of  Hxfyhldy  and  Ghfq,  grand 

star  Ivimgum  peccacs,  first  gentleman  usher  to  the — pshaw  ! — I  forget. 
I  wish,  though,,  he  would  not  call  names  :  I  don't  so  much  mind  his 
"  The  all  is  the  largest ;"  for  it  is  no  more  than  a  truism,  one  would 
think,  and  he  can't  pronounce  it  otherwise.  In  addition,  however,  to 
his  asking  me  if  I  had  been  annoyed  with  a  shower  of  ale  in  the  night 
(which  was  a  most  powerful  home-thrust,  I  having  suffered  from 
drinking  a  glass  of  what  he  would  have  called  hale),  he  called  my  son 
a  harchey-tect.  Such,  men  ought  to  be  knighted.  Joking  apart,  he 
can  give  one  a  great  treat.  The  mosaic  is  a  most  magnificent,  glorious 
"Work  of  art,  and  I  was  highly  gratified.  And  now,  dear  Speidell,  as  I 
have  two  managers,  four  printers,  and  some  York  theatre  trustees  to 
write  to  this  day,  excuse  brevity. 

Kind  sayings  to  the  Doctor  and  all  the  nine  Eattraj-s,  Bird  and  Co., 
Lake,  <&c. 

Ever  sincerely  yours,  C.  Mathews. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  413 

To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Elvaston  Castle,  Jan.  26tli,  1834. 

I  am  here  fulfilling  an  engagement  rai;de  last  July  *  Magnificent ! 
— "  Eastern  Grandeur, — Aziatic  logezery."  Everything  truly  agreeable 
liere— real  solid  comforts  and  liberty.  Everything  doing  well  again  : 
Lichfield,  little  quiet  Lichfield,  part  of  pit  laid  into  boxes ;  67Z.  in  a 
theatre  said  to  hold  when  crammed,  60Z.  Dined  with  a  Speidellian 
iriend.  Dr.  Mott:  met  there  another,  who  thanked  me  for  my  hospi- 
tality, which  I  cannot  remember,  and  sent  me  in  his  chariot  twelve 
miles  on  my  road,  Friday,  carriage  having  gone  on.  Saw,  on  entering 
Derby  in  a  stage  coach,  a  frightful  spectacle,  eleven  hundred  men  and. 
a  hundred  women  (the  latter  all  dressed  in  white)  in  a  procession,  two 
and  two,  attending  a  funeral,  making  a  mockery  of  woe,  the  real 
purpose  of  the  assemblage  being  to  intimidate  the  master  manufacturers, 
these  people  belonging  to  a  trade's-union,  and  all  out  of  employ,  through 
their  own  unlawful  combination  for  higher  wages. 

We  were  detained  a  considerable  time — the  shops  all  shut,  and  streets 
lined  with  a  dense  population.  The  excitement  was  too  great  for  my 
purposes,  for  alarm  evidently  was  felt  by  the  peaceable.  I  then  heard 
there  was  a  ball  at  night,  where  two  hundred  people  were  to  kick  about, 
therefore  I  did  wonders,  after  despairing.  When  I  finished,  they  called 
from  the  pit,  "  Another  night ! — another  night !" 

C.  Mathews. 


To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

York,  Feb.  16tli,  1834. 

Your  last  letter  would  have  been  cheap  at  five  pounds.  I  don't 
know,  now,  why  I  was  so  particularly  alarmed  at  not  hearing  on 
Thursday  night ;  but  I  thought  1  had  a  right  to  be  if  there  was  no 
arrival  on  Friday.  Well !  I  was  in  a  nervous  fidget  all  dinner-time. 
Belcombe's  servant  went  to  the  post-office  at  half-past  six,  and  returned 
with  a  newspaper  and  letter.  "  Huzza !"  said  he,  "  we  shall  benefit  by 
this  arrival."     They  were  both  from  Doncaster. 

"  This  all  P" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  Are  you  sure  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir :  they  looked  very  carefully." 

Suppose  what  I  felt.  Had  there  been  none,  I  could  have  borne  it 
better  than  the  two  wretched  things  from  Doncaster.  I  was  shaken  in 
a  chair  to  the  theatre  till  I  was  sick.  At  ten  minutes  past  seven  o'clock, 
while  I  was  wondering  that  there  was  no  paper,  at  all  events,  in  ran  a 
man  with — "Postmaster  begs  pardon,  sir;  here's  a  letter."  If  the 
audience  had  but  known  why  I  was  in  such  spirits,  they  would  have 
laughed :  and  such  a  letter  ! — charming  ! — enough  to  gladden  the  heart 

•  To  visit  the  Earl  of  Harrington. 


414  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

of  a  desponding  father.     "Bless  him !     I  am  made  more  than  happ}'  by 
your  description,  be  assured. 

The  Belcombes  are  more  than  kind.  Tell  Charles  I  am  as  ^ood  as 
he  is.  I  have  not  been  in  an  inn  a  long  time,  and  shall  not  till  I  get 
to  Nottingham.  Everybody  is  civil,  and  pets  me.  All  sorts  of  love 
are  sent  to  you  and  him.  The  Belcombes  are  as  fond  of  him  as  any 
duke  or  duchess  can  be.  Observe  !  don't  write  even  No.  1,  or  one  of  2, 
outside  the  frank  of  a  newspaper :  the  Duke  of  Eichmond  charges 
sixteen  shillings  for  it. 

I  write  this  second  sheet  three  miles  from  York,  the  Doctor  having 
given  me  a  ride,  and  Fop  a  run.  While  he  prescribes,  I  write,  as  I 
have  no  other  time.  I  am  going  to  t'  Minster  at  four,  and  dine  at  t' 
barracks  with  Lord  Arthur  Hill  at  six.     Such  a  splendid  day ! 

My  last  night  will  be  Leicester,  March  3rd,  and  then  I  bend  home- 
wards. 

The  Belcombes  send  back  all  the  combined  love  of  a  most  loveable 
family.     Do  write  to  Anne. 

C.  Mathews. 


To  Mrs.  IfatJiews. 

Newstead  Abbey. 

I  don't  know  how  to  answer  the  question  about  "  shall  you  require 
anything  about  the  Fund  to  be  sent  ?"  If  you  could  hit  upon  a  new 
thought,  I  might  as  well  have  it  a  day  or  two  before,  though  I  mean  to 
trust  chiefly  to  chance.  A  pretty  quotation  about  charity  I  should 
like;  but  a  bit  of  fun  above  all,  if  the  subject  could  be  joked  upon. 
As  to  the  plaster  cast,  if  Charles  does  not  care  about  it,  I  am  sure  I 
don't ;  therefore  I  fling  back  the  responsibility. 

Beauty  day ! — extensive  park — *'  Hospitalities,  look  you" — charming! 
and  no  grandeur. 

Your  peremptory  "  must  write  by  return"  has  occasioned  a  man  and 
horse  to  go  hence  on  purpose  with  this  letter.  We  are  three  miles  and 
a  half  from  Leicester,  and  the  letters  for  London  were  sent  before  the 
postman  delivered  yours.  Love  to  Charley,  and  "  dat's  all,"  but  that 
I  am  ever  affectionately  yours,  C.  M. 

101 Z.  in  two  nights  at  Nottingham,  and  all  the  places  taken  here,  or 
rather  there ! 


To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Birstall,  Leicester,  March  3rd,  1834. 

The  best  reason  I  can  give  you  for  not  informing  you  of  the  time  of 
my  return  home,  was,  that  I  did  not,  and  could  not,  know  it  until 
yesterday.  Neither  did  you  desire  it  of  me  in  your  last.  I  have  read 
it  carefully  again,  and  positively  there  is  no  such  word.  Are  you 
answered  ? 


CHAELES  MATHEWS.  415 

The  Fund  paid  postage,  or  I  should  have  been  In  a  great  rage.  A 
long  letter,  telling  me  what  I  could  have  told  them ;  who  founded  the 
Fund,  and  how  long  ago,  and  a  list  of  the  vice-presidents,  making  a 
great  thick  packet,  which  frightened  me.  I  don't  know  what  to  say, 
or  what  to  do :  they  have  made  me  miserable ;  and  if  I  had  anticipated 
it,  I  would  not  have  attended  at  all.  I  don't  know,  as  you  say,  what 
Charles  could  say  either,  for  I  should  have  no  time  to  study  six  lines. 

CM. 

,  Immediately  previous  to  the  day  fixed  for  the  Fund  dinner, 
my  husband  returned  home,  looking  and  feeling  very  unfit  for 
any  new  exertion.  He  had  something  like  a  horror  of  the  ap- 
proaching duty  imposed  upon  him,  and  could  resolve  upon  no 
stated  words  for  the  occasion.  On  the  morning  of  the  day,  he 
became  really  so  ill,  that  I  endeavoured  to  dissuade  him  from 
attending  the  dinner ;  but  he  had  so  much  principle  about  a 
promise,  that  only  a  state  of  utter  incapacity  to  leave  home 
could  have  induced  him  thus  to  disappoint,  at  the  eleventh  hour, 
his  brethren  on  a  point  of  business.  When  he  got  into  the  car- 
riage, he  had  tears  in  his  eyes,  at  what  he  knew  must  be  a  task — 
a  suffering  to  him  both  of  mind  and  body  ;  and,  as  he  declared, 
he  had  not  the  most  distant  notion  of  what  he  could  say.  How- 
ever, it  was  clear  one  recollection  was  upon  his  mind,  and  upon 
this  he  afterwards  worked :  it  was  the  injurious  and  illiberal  ob- 
servation of  a  Mr.  Rotch,  in  the  House  of  Commons,  during  the 
last  Parliament,  that  actors  were  "  outcasts  of  society ;"  and  my 
husband,  with  great  felicity,  took  this  phrase  for  part  of  his 
theme. 

He  was  received  on  rising  with  much  cheering,  and  made  the 
following  speech : — 

If  the  noble  chairman  (said  he),  in  apologizing  for  the  absence  of  their 
great  patron,  had  thought  it  necessary  to  express  his  sense  of  his  own 
want  of  ability,  and  his  regret  that  the  company  had  not  a  better 
substitute  for  the  illustrious  Duke,  how  much  must  he  (Mr.  Mathews) 
regret  the  absence  of  their  excellent  treasurer,  and  his  own  inability 
adequately  to  fill  his  place ;  for  he  stood  before  them  in  what  he  would 
call  *'  an  awful  position  "  (a  laugh).  Yes,  he  had  felt  his  position  awful, 
and  he  had  put  forth  a  feeler  in  the  first  place;  and  as  they  had  laughed 
when  he  wished  them,  he  hoped  that  they  would  not  laugh  when  he 
wished  them  to  be  serious  (applause).  The  noble  chairman  had  la- 
mented, as  all  lamented,  the  absence  of  their  excellent  treasurer,  and 
be  had  kindly  thrown  upon  him  (Mr.  Mathews)  the  task  of  filling  the 

f)lace  of  his  absent  friend.  He  had  often  sat  in  that  room  upon  occ.isions 
ike  the  present,  and  he  more  regretted  the  absence  of  his  friend,  because 
he  (Mr.  Fawcett)  used  to  come  there  armed  with  facts  and  arguments, 
and  with  an  eloquence  which  in  su  j1i  a  cause'  was  irresistible.     He  (Mr. 


416  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESrONDENCE  OF 

Mathews)  had  almost  suddenly  been  called  upon  to  stand  in  his  friend's 
shoes,  and  he  therefore  was  obliged  to  say. 

For  us  and  for  our  charity, 
Thus  stooping  to  your  clemency. 
We  beg  your  hearing  patiently. 

This  institution  was  founded  in  the  year  1765,  and  there  had  been  at 
various  times  since  a  dispute  as  to  who  was  the  founder.  Some  said 
that  Mattocks  was  the  founder,  others  that  it  was  Mr.  Hull.  There 
had  been  a  kind  of  what  he  (Mr.  Mathews)  would  term  an  amiable  dis- 
pute amongst  the  relatives  and  admirers  of  Messrs.  Hull,  Mattocks, 
and  the  celebrated  Garrick,  with  whom  the  idea  of  a  theatrical  fund 
originated.  The  Covent  Garden  institution  certainly  was  founded  by 
the  two  former.  Each  claimed  the  merit  of  the  suggestion ;  and  on 
application  for  an  Act  of  Parliament  they  ran  a  race  tor  the  prize ;  it 
was  nearly  a  "  dead  heat ; "  but  Garrick  won  by  gaining  the  Act  of 
Parliament  before  Covent  Garden^  However,  from  that  year  up  to  the 
year  1815,  the  society  had  been  supported  by  the  actors,  occasionally 
assisted  by  other  contributors.  The  present  royal  family  had  long  and 
liberally  patronised  it.  His  late  Majesty  George  the  Fourth  sent  a 
donation  of  100^.  annually.  His  late  Royal  Highness  the  Duke  of 
York  not  only  subscribed,  but  annually  took  the  chair  at  their  dinners ; 
and  upon  his  lamented  death,  which  was  one  of  the  greatest  calamities 
that  could  happen  to  this  institution,  his  present  Gracious  Majesty  not 
only  came  forward  with  great  warmth,  but  said  that  he  looked  upon  his 
patronage  as  a  duty  imposed  upon  him  by  his  late  illustrious  brother, 
from  whom  it  had  descended  to  him  as  an  heir-loom  (great  applause). 
When  his  Majesty  was  subsequently  placed  upon  the  throne,  his  Royal 
Highness  the  Duke  of  Sussex  became  their  president. 

The  first  idea  of  a  public  dinner  originated  with  Mr.  Fawcett  (hear, 
hear) ;  but,  perhaps  that,  like  the  origin  of  the  institution  itself,  might 
be  matter  for  an  "  amiable  "  dispute  (hear,  and  a  laugh).  But  what 
gratified  him  (Mr.  Mathews)  now  was,  that  he  had  an  opportunity  of 
doing  justice  to  the  man  who  was  an  honour — he  would  not  say  merely 
to  the  profession — but  to  human  nature  (applause).  That  man  had 
devoted  days  and  nights,  and  weeks  and  years,  to  promote  the  interest 
of  that  institution  and  of  the  profession  (great  applause).  He  was  the 
most  enthusiastic  and  warm  friend  of  the  institution,  and  he  gave  up 
more  of  his  thoughts  to  it  than,  perhaps,  to  any  other  subject  (hear, 
hear).  Had  he  (Mr.  Mathews)  then  not  said  truly  that  he  stood  in  an 
awkward  position,  to  take  the  place  of  a  man  who  possessed  so  much 
eloquence,  to  which  he  (Mr.  Mathews)  had  no  pretensions  ?  If  any  one 
present  wanted  to  ask  for  himself  a  favour  of  a  friend,  would  not  his 
voice  falter,  and  his  tongue  lose  its  power  ?  But  when  any  man  came 
before  a  friend,  as  the  advocate  of  others,  to  plead  the  cause  of  the 
unfortunate,  then  would  not  the  words  flow,  as  it  were,  spontaneously  ? 
Now  he  stood  before  them  in  the  latter  position;  and  recollecting  that 
Mr.  Fawcett  had  always  filled  that  situation  on  former  occasions,  he 


CHARLES  MATHEWS  4J7 

(Mr.  Mathews)  felt  his  disadvantage  to  be  like  that  of  a  comic  actor 
who  was  called  upon  at  a  short  notice  to  play  a  tragic  part  (applause 
and  laughter).  He  hoped  that  gentlemen  did  not  come  there  that 
evening  with  the  supposition  that  the  object  of  the  institution  was  only 
to  support  people  in  old  age,  or  othenvise  unable  to  support  themselves. 
It  had  been  the  fancy  of  Mr.  Fawc*  t,  that  the  institution  might  one 
day  enable  actors  to  retire  after  a  number  of  years  upon  "halt-pay," 
and  he  had  lived  to  see  the  wish  realised.  Mr.  Hull  used  to  say,  that 
he  hoped  to  live  to  see  the  fund  amount  to  10,00OZ. ;  but  Mr.  Favvcett 
had  lived  to  see  that  sum  trebled  (cheers).  At  this  day  the  society  was 
paying  out  of  the  interest  of  its  funded  capital  annually  900/. 

There  was  a  notion  prevalent  that  actors  were  careless  and  improvi- 
dent, and  that  in  the  course  of  some  few  years  they  ought,  every  one  of 
them,  to  save  a  competence  for  the  remainder  of  their  lives  (a  laugh). 
But,  with  a  nominal  salary  of  61.  per  week,  an  actor  really  received  no 
more  than  200Z,  a  year,  if  so  much,  when  those  parts  of  the  year  in 
which  he  was  not  engaged,  and  consequently  not  paid,  were  deducted 
(hear,  hear).  Mr.  Emery  never  had  more  than  121.  a  week,  and  he  had 
a  large  family  to  support ;  and  would  that  society  refuse  to  contribute 
towards  the  support  of  such  a  man  ?  (hear,  hear).  He  would  say  that 
it  ought  not  to  be  the  only  object  of  that  society  to  support  those  who 
could  not  support  themselves  (hear).  It  ought  to  aim  at  rewarding 
high  merit  in  its  decline  (hear,  hear).  He  could  name  persons  who 
were  assisted  by  this  society,  and  at  whose  names  the  heart  of  every 
man  present  would  warm  (applause).  Here  he  ought  not  to  omit 
stating,  that  there  were  many  persons,  patrons  of  the  society,  who  did 
not  honour  them  with  their  presence  at  the  annual  dinner ;  amongst 
them  he  should  mention  the  Duke  of  Devonshire,  who  had  that  day 
sent  a  donation  of  100/.  He  was  sure  that  all  the  patrons  of  the 
institution  would  be  glad  to  hear  that  the  society  had  an  opportunity  of 
assisting  many  persons  of  whom  they  would  be  sorry  to  hear  it  said, 
that  they  had  come  upon  the  charity.  They  had  not  come  upon  the 
charity,  but  they  had  a  claim  upon  the  funds  after  twenty-one  years* 
subscription  (hear,  hear).  Was  there  one  in  that  room  who  would  not 
be  gratified  to  hear  that  he  had  contributed  towards  adding  1001.  a-year 
to  the  means  of  such  persons  ?  Until  last  year,  they  had  been  only 
able  to  allow  80/.  a-year ;  but  this  year,  the  liberality  of  the  patrons 
had  enabled  them  to  increase  it  to  100/.  He  wanted  that  society  to 
hold  out  to  young  gentlemen  of  family, — now  when  all  prejudice  had 
vanished  from  the  minds  of  liberal  men, — that  they  might  have  a 
prospect  of  retiring  from  the  profession  upon  half-pay  (hear,  hear). 

Various  were  the  causes  which  had  been  alleged  for  the  decline  of 
the  drama ;  some  said  that  the  theatres  were  too  large ;  but  the  late 
John  Kemble  once  said,  when  told  that  the  public  did  not  like  large 
theatres,  "  Sir,  the  public  lie !  When  I  and  my  sister  were  burnt  out 
of  Drury-lane,  we  performed  at  the  Opera  House,  where  we  drew  houses 
of  700/.  a  night !  We  then  went  to  the  Haymarket,  where  we  never 
had  more  than  300/.,  and  the  small  theatre  was  never  full."    He  (Mr. 

E  E 


418  THE  LIFE  AND   COEKESPONDENCE  OF 

Mathews)  had  travelled  lately  round  the  provinces,  and  he  had  seen 
many  attempts  to  put  down  the  drama.  In  Sheffield,  for  instance,  there 
was  a  clergyman  who  desired  to  be  informed  whenever  the  players  came 
down  there.  His  clerk  used  to  go  to  the  printing-office,  and  ask  when 
were  the  players  coming  down ;  "  because  the  parson  was  going  to  have 
a  fling  at  them."  After  commenting  very  severely  upon  the  parson's 
conduct,  he  said  he  had  read  in  the  papers,  but  he  hoped  it  was  not  true, 
that  in  a  late  parliamentary  discussion  relating  to  the  drama,  a  member 
of  the  Legislature  had  experienced  regret  that  the  time  of  parliament 
should  have  been  so  much  taken  up  with  the  case  of  the  "  outcasts  of 
society,"  He  (Mr.  Mathews)  said,  honestly,  that  he  never  had  had  any 
wish  to  be  in  the  House  of  Commons  (hear,  and  great  laughter) ;  but 
after  he  read  the  speech  of  the  senator  to  whom  he  alluded,  he  almost 
•wished  he  had  been  in  the  senate  at  the  time,  that  he  might  have  stood 
up  and  asked  him  to  his  face,  would  he  say  that  Garrick  was  an  outcast  ? 
Would  he  say  that  Shakspeare  was  an  outcast  of  society  ?  But  would 
Shakspeare  ever  have  been  the  writer  which  he  was  if  he  had  not  been 
an  actor  ?  (hear,  hear).  Some  even  of  those  fanatics  who,  at  Sheffield 
and  in  other  places,  preached  sermons  against  the  drama,  quoted 
Shakspeare  from  the  pulpit,  and  such  was  their  ignorance,  that  they  did 
not  know  they  were  quoting  a  dramatic  writer  (great  laughter). 

Mr.  Mathews  then  alluded  to  the  writings  of  Jeremy  Collier  against 
the  stage,  and  said,  that  he  was  happy  they  had  now  a  writer  upon  the 
drama  of  the  same  name,  but  with  vei'y  different  feelings  (applause). 
Was  it  not  the  most  scandalous  of  falsehoods,  the  most  filthy  of  decep- 
tions, to  say  that  no  person  could  go  into  a  theatre  without  hearing 
something  to  shock  the  ears  of  decency  ?  Certainly  in  plaj^s  that  were 
written  two  hundred  years  ago,  when  the  manners  of  the  times  en- 
couraged licentiousness,  they  assumed  the  tone  of  society  ;  but  it  was 
not  true  of  the  drama  of  the  present  day.  The  taste  of  the  public  itself 
prevented  the  use  of  an  indelicate,  or  even  an  equivocal  expression 
(hear,  hear).  He  (Mr.  Mathews)  had  not  mentioned  the  Sheffield 
attacks  upon  the  drama  from  any  feeling  of  disappointment  as  regarded 
himself  5  for  he  had  attacked  the  fanatic  in  his  stronghold,  and  had  had 
the  satisfaction  of  beating  him  (applause).  To  those  who  were  now 
present  he  need  not  say,  "  Are  we  outcasts  P"  To  those  who  would  say 
so,  he  would  reply,  if  they  were  present,  "  It  is  untrue."  Was  Garrick, 
the  friend  of  the  great  and  good  Dr.  Johnson,  an  outcast  ?  He  of  whom 
Johnson  said,  that  "  his  death  had  eclipsed  the  gaiety  of  the  nation,  and 
suspended  the  most  harmless  amusement  of  the  people."  Here  was  the 
opinion  of  Dr.  Johnson,  that  the  drama  was  "  a  harmless  amusement" 
(he^r,  hear).  How  many  of  that  profession  had  been  raised  by  their 
merits  to  the  highest  rank,  and  there  had  not  been  amongst  them  a 
single  instance  of  deviation  from  virtue  after  their  elevation.  He  (Mr. 
Mathews)  would  rather  be  the  meanest  of  these  outcasts,  than  be  the 
man  who  had  called  them  by  that  name.  He  would  not  call  even 
gipsies  "  outcasts  ;"  for  he  had  had  experience  of  the  honesty  of  gipsies ; 
and.  if  he  should  hear  that  there  were  some  of  the  tribe  who  were  not 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  419 

honest,  he  would  not  say  that  the  gipsies  were  outcasts,  but  that 
those  gipsies  were  a  disgrace  to  their  profession  (cheers  and  great 
laughter). 

It  had  been  said  by  a  great  writer,  Alexander  Pope,  that — 

Honour  and  shame  from  no  condition  rise  : 

and,  as  if  he  wished  to  put  a  pun  into  his  (Mr.  Mathews)  hand,  he 
added — 

Act  well  your  part,  there  all  the  honour  lies. 

It  had  been  said  by  a  noble  and  learned  lord  at  the  table  of  his  late 
Majesty,  when  Prince  of  Wales,  that  the  law  was  a  profession  into  which 
no  nobleman  was  ashamed  to  allow  his  son  to  enter.  "  What  obliga- 
tions," exclaimed  Mr.  Curran,  who  was  present,  "  am  I  then  not  under 
to  the  law,  which  has  enabled  me,  the  son  of  a  poor  and  lowly  peasant, 
to  sit  at  the  table  of  the  Prince  of  Wales."  Well,  then,  the  drama  was 
a  profession  which  raised  him  (Mr.  Mathews),  "  an  outcast,"  to  sit  at 
the  table  of  the  Prince  of  Waterloo  (cheers) !  Nor  did  he  go  there  in 
the  character  of  Punch ;  and  he  could  add,  that  he  never  met  the  noble 
Duke  in  the  street  without  the  honour  to  be  acknowledged  by  him 
(hear).  Mr.  Mathews  then  appealed  to  the  press  to  vindicate  the 
drama  from  these  unfounded  attacks,  and  he  called  on  the  members  of 
the  profession  to  be  urged  by  such  calumnies  to  greater  exertions  for 
their  distressed  brethren.  He  called  upon  them  to  come  forward  to  the 
aid  of  the  widows  and  children  of  those  men  who  had  raised  the  profes- 
sion to  its  present  respectability,  and  he  trusted  that  everj'-  one  of  them 
had  a  tear  for  pity,  and  a  hand  open  as  day  to  melting  charity. 

Mr.  Mathews  sat  down  amidst  immense  cheering'. 


£  E  2 


420  THE  LIFE  AND  COERESPONDENCE  OF 


CHAPTER  XLI. 

Offer  to  Mr.  Mathews  of  a  second  engagement  in  America — His  reluctance  to 
accept  it — His  ultimate  determination  —  His  performance  at  Richmond, 
being  his  last  public  appearance  in  England — Parting  interview  between  Mr. 
Mathews  and  Mr.  Bannister — Mr.  and  Mrs.  Mathews  at  Mr.  Cartwright's 
House  in  the  Isle  of  Wight  — Their  departure  from  England  in  the  Canada 
— Valedictory  letter  from  Mr.  Theodore  Hook — The  voyage — The  somnam- 
bulist— Arrival  at  New  York  ;  the  scurrilous  placard  ;  Mr.  Mathews's  per- 
formance in  New  York  of  his  ' '  Trip  to  America  ;"  its  effect  on  the  audience 
— Mr.  Mathews's  reception  in  Philadelphia. 

In  the  spring  of  1834,  an  agent  of  the  American  theatres  came 
over,  and  held  forth  a  brilhant  inducement  to  Mr.  Mathews,  if 
he  would  once  more  cross  the  Atlantic.  My  husband,  rather 
to  my  surprise,  seemed  unwilling  to  listen  to  an}'-  terms.  It  had 
been,  a  few  j^ears  earlier,  his  most  ardent  wish  to  pay  one  more 
visit  to  that  country,  if  only,  as  he  said,  to  contradict  the  as- 
persions of  vulgar  and  interested  malice,  which  had  accused  him 
of  ingratitude  to  the  people  who  had  used  him  so  kindly  :  now, 
however,  he  seemed  averse  even  to  the  thought.  I  regretted 
this,  and  pressed  him  to  make  up  his  mind  to  this  certain  mode 
of  retrieving  all  losses.  He  looked  at  me  in  such  a  manner  as 
brought  tears  into  my  eyes,  though  I  hardly  knew  why,  until  he 
said,  "  If  I  go,  I  shall  never  behold  you  or  Charles  again !"  I 
was  silenced ;  but  eventually  the  offers  and  temptations  of 
Mr.  Maywood  prevailed,  without  any  further  persuasion  from 
me ;  and,  as  soon  as  I  was  informed  of  this,  I  made  known  my 
determination  to  my  husband  to  go  with  him.  He  was  much 
affected  at  this  announcement  of  the  sacrifice  I  was  anxious  to 
make  of  my  home  comforts, —  and  to  leave  Charles!  Mr.  Ma- 
thews expressed  his  fears  that  I  could  not  endure  the  fatigue 
and  suffering  of  such  a  voyage.  Indeed,  the  indulgence  I  had 
ever  experienced  from  this  best  of  husbands,  who,  it  might  be 
truly  said,  had  never  permitted  "  the  winds  of  heaven  to  visit 
me  roughly,"  had  unfitted  me  for  hardship  ;  but  I  was  positive : 
and  well  was  it  for  my  after  reflections  that  I  persisted  in  my 


CHARLES  MATHEWS,  421 

determination.  At  the  time  I  had  no  suspicion  that  my  going 
would  be  of  more  importance  to  him  than  that  of  companion- 
ship ;  but  I  felt  that  I  could  not  bear  to  see  him  depart  without 
me.  I  had  no  forebodings  of  evil ;  on  the  contrary,  I  augured 
a  happy  result  to  his  health  from  the  voyage.  He  loved  the 
sea,  and  always  felt  the  better  for  its  influence ;  and,  next  to  his 
hoped-for  restoration  to  bodily  strength,  I  could  not  but  rejoice 
that  he  had  consented  to  a  plan  which  was  calculated  to  place 
him  independent  of  future  casualties  and  worldly  difficulties,  in 
comfort  and  repose  for  the  rest  of  his  life.*  Ultimately,  all  was 
arranged  with  his  partner,  Mr.  Yates,  and  every  other  impedi- 
ment surmounted. 

A  few  days  before  quitting  London,  Mr.  Mathews  accepted 
an  engagement  to  perform  at  Richmond  f  for  one  night.  He 
consequently  appeared  there  to  a  crowded  house  on  the  25th  of 
July ;  and  it  is  remarkable,  that  his  last  appearance  in  England 
took  place  upon  the  very  stage  whereon  his  first  essay  in  public 
was  made  in  the  year  1793. 

My  husband  was  excessively  anxious  to  keep  our  purposed 
voyage,  if  possible,  a  secret  until  the  last  minute.  His  health 
and  spirits  were  unequal  to  the  task  of  leave-taking,  or  the  pro- 
bable remarks  that  would  take  place  from  those  ignorant  of  his 
"circumstances,  especially  respecting  my  accompanying  him  ;  thus 
a  very  few,  and  those  our  confidential  friends  only,  knew  of  the 
intention  from  ourselves.  But  rumour,  with  her  hundred  tongues, 
had  somehow  got  hold  of  the  fact,  and  Mr.  Mathews  was  as- 
sailed by  many  inquiries  from  the  idle  and  curious  that  distressed 
and  annoyed  him.  It  was  always  inconceivable  to  him,  how 
persons  not  supposed  to  possess  the  authority  to  question  the 
affairs  and  proceedings  of  their  neighbours,  could  venture  to  do 
so,  especially  when  such  interference  is  evidently  unwelcome. 
But  this  we  had  so  often  m.et  with,  that  wonder  had  long 
ceased  at  such  impertinence  ;  and  Mr.  Mathews,  anticipating  a 
recurrence  of  such  liberties,  was  restless  to  escape  from  them  on 
this  occasion.  To  one  or  two  instances,  however,  of  friendly 
surprise  and  regret  at  his  going  to  America,  and  advice  not  to 
go,  &c.,  he  was  obliged  to  submit.  An  interesting  scene  took 
place  with  Mr.  Bannister,  who  entreated  us  to  see  him  before  we 
went  to  America ;  adding,  that,  if  we  rei'used,  it  would  render 
him  truly  unhappy.  Such  an  appeal  was  not  to  be  resisted  ;  and 
this  distressing  interview  was  such  an  overthrow  of  my  dear 

*  Oue  year's  absence  would  have  done  this.  t  In  Surrey. 


422  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

husband's  spirits,  that  he  refused  to  see  every  other  person  who 
expressed  a  similar  desire.  Mr.  Bannister  had  known  ire  from 
childhood,  and  my  husband  for  many  years ;  and  he  declared 
that  he  loved  us  both  affectionately  ;  that  it  was  a  severe  pang 
at  his  time  of  life  to  take  leave  of  such  persons  prematurely,  as 
it  might  be  called,  for  that  he  was  certain  he  should  not  live  to 
see  us  again.  He  wept  most  affectingly,  and  saluting  me,  while 
he  held  his  friend's  hand  in  his,  after  embracing  him,  his  head 
fell  upon  my  shoulder,  and  he  sobbed  so  distressingly,  that  my 
husband  and  I  were  completely  subdued.  Never  shall  I  forget 
the  benevolent  and  beautiful  features  of  this  aged  friend,  as  he 
turned,  for  the  last  time,  his  silver  head  round  to  look  at  my 
husband,  whom  he  thought  not  to  outlive,  and  truly  asserted  he 
should  never  again  behold.* 

It  was  arranged  that  Mr.  Mathews  should  now  proceed,  with 
his  servant  and  luggage,  to  a  friend's  house  in  the  Isle  of  Wight, 
there  to  remain  until  the  Canada  should  reach  Portsmouth 
from  London,  and  that  Charles  and  myself  should  follow  him 
from  home  when  all  preparations  were  completed.  He  there- 
fore left  London  for  Mr.  Cartvvright's  hospitable  roof,t  under 
which  my  husband  and  myself  passed  the  last  happy  days  we 
were  destined  ever  to  know  in  England. 

On  the  27th  of  August  the  Canada  reached  Portsmouth, 
where  we  joined  it,  and  took  our  mournful  leave  of  Charles  and 
our  friends. 

Previously  to  our  quitting  England,  the  following  letter, 
amongst  many  others,  gratified  my  husband  excessively.  The 
writer  had  been  one  of  his  earhest  companions,  and  the  regret 
which  he  expressed  at  parting  touched  the  heart  of  him  whose 
constant  nature  clung  to  old  friends  and  early  associations.  Con- 
trary to  his  custom,  Mr.  Mathews  seemed  anxious  to  preserve 
this  letter,  which  he  gave  into  my  hands  again,  after  reading  it 
with  great  emotion,  saving,  while  his  eyes  were  filled  with  tears, 
"  Take  care  of  that." 

To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Fulham,  Monday. 
Deae  Mes.  Mathews, — I  very  much  regretted  that  you  were  out  on 
Thursday  when  I  called  in  Russell-street,  and  very  much  regretted  that 
I  could  not  dine  at  the  Garrick  Club  on  Tuesday .|     However,  leave- 

*  Mr.  Bannister  lived  to  mourn  for  his  friend. 
+  East  Dene. 
X  The  day  on  which  the  Garrick  Club  gave  a  dinner  to  Mr.  Mathews  pre« 
vious  to  his  leaving  England. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  423 

taking  is  an  odious  ceremony,  and  so  perhaps  it  is  as  well  as  it  is.  I 
write  to  you  because  I  hear  that  Mat.  is  gone  to  the  Isle  ofWight,  and 
I  could  not  bear  that  my  almost  oldest  friends — don't  be  angry — should 
depart  without  one  word  of  adieu. 

Assure  yourselves  that,  however  chequered  my  life  may  have  been, 
and  however  much  we  have  been  separated  by  circumstances,  that  the 
early  feelings  of  friendship  and  attachment  are  still  fresh  in  my  heart; 
and  believe,  for  you  may,  that  I  shall,  during  your  absence,  hear  of 
you,  even  if  not  ti-om  you,  with  the  deepest  interest.  The  next  time  we 
meet,  it'  that  may  ever  be  (which,  as  far  as  I  am  concerned),  I  doubt, 
we  shall  meet  under  more  agreeable  circumstances  than  we  should  have 
met,  or  rather  parted,  if  you  and  Mathews  had  been  at  home  on 
Thursday.     Till  the  time  comes, 

Believe  me,  dear  Mrs.  Mathews, 

Yours  and  your  sincerely  attaclied  friend, 

Theodore  Hook. 

I  publish  this  letter  with  great  satisfaction,  and  I  am  sure  the 
reader  will  partake  of  my  feeling  when  I  add  that  it  was  often 
referred  to  and  dwelt  upon  by  his  friend  with  much  gratification 
during  the  residue  of  his  painful  life. 

The  energy  of  his  determined  search  after  future  rest  seemed 
to  continue  with  my  husband  unabated  during  the  voyage.  His 
spirits  were  at  times  surprisingly  exhilarated, .and  seldom  lelt 
him,  except  when  he  saw  my  sufferings,  nearly  at  one  time  fatal. 
He  was,  in  fact,  the  support  and  dependence  of  all  on  board  for 
means  of  getting  througli  a  harassing  long  voyage  without 
ennui.  The  healthy  had  full  enjoyment  of  his  benevolent  exer- 
tions, and  the  sick  crawled  from  their  bertlis,  unwilling  to  lose 
the  delight  offered  to  them.* 

One  interruption  to  this  general  good  will  occurred.  Mr. 
Mathews  was,  indeed,  a  universal  favourite  in  the  cabin,  in  which 
there  was  a  passenger,  an  elderl}^  simple-mannered  man,  who 
described  himself  as  having  been  formerly  the  master  of  a  vessel, 
who  had  saved  enough  to  enjoy  ease  and  independence  away 
from  his  craft,  and  was  then  bound  on  a  visit  to  a  son  resident 
in  New  York.  This  person  was  a  devoted  admirer  of  my  hus- 
band— ever  at  his  side ;  he  really  appeared  to  love  him,  while  he 
regarded  his  powers  as  superhuman.  It  was  suddenly  discovered 
that  this  person  was  in  the  habit  of  rising  from  his  sleep,  dressing 
himself!,  drinking  his  "  gi'og,"  going  .upon  deck,  and  retreating 
to  his  berth  without  any  consciousness  of  such  acts,  which  when 
alluded  to  the  next  day  he  would  resolutely  discredit,  and  with 

*  One  of  the  'Ureats"  he  afforded  was  by  reading  Mr.  Lover's  admirable 
stories  of  Irish  traditions. 


424  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

something  like  resentment  silence  the  assertions  of  those  who 
were  witnesses  of  his  proceedings.  Mr.  Mathews  one  day  find- 
ing the  old  man  more  than  usually  earnest  in  his  denial  of  the 
facts  described,  and  sorry  to  see  him  vexed,  turned  to  his  tor- 
mentor, and  in  an  under  tone  begged  him  to  desist,  for  that 

Mr. was  probably  a  somnambulist.     Soon  after  this  the 

old  man  was  observed  to  absent  himself  from  the  cabin;  he 
would  neither  eat  nor  drink  there  (nor  apparently  elsewhere) ; 
he  would  not  mingle  with  the  mirth  he  used  so  much  to  enjoy — 
in  short,  he  refused  all  association  and  pined  in  thought.  Even 
his  favourite  had  no  influence  to  draw  him  from  the  retired  part 
of  the  deck  where  he  sat  until  he  could  unperceived  creep  into 
his  berth.  At  last  he  became  visibly  ill,  wept  frequently,  and, 
in  fact,  created  much  interest  in  my  husband's  mind  as  to  the 
cause  of  his  distress  Subdued  one  day,  however,  by  the  earnest 
kindness  of  Mr.  Mathews,  and  his  pressing  him  upon  the  origin 
of  the  shyness  he  showed,  especially  to  him,  with  whom  he  had 
been  so  cordial,  the  old  man  confessed  that  he  had  overheard 
Mr.  Mathews  "call  him  names,"  and  he  had  previously  con- 
ceived, such  a  regard  for  him  that  his  feelings  were  proportion- 
ably  hurt.  For  some  time  the  accused  was  at  a  loss  even  to 
guess  the  meaning  of  this  accusation.  He  denied  the  charge, 
and  the  old  man  persisted  in  it.  He  "  would  not,"  he  said, 
"have  believed  any  reporter,  but  he  had  heard  him  himself." 
When,  where,  and  to  whom  had  he  done  this  ?  was  the  earnest 
inquiry  ;  and  this  brought  a  solution  of  the  mystery.  The  old 
man  had  caught  the  word  "  somnambulist,"  and  being  totally 
unacquainted  with  its  import,  had  fancied  it  a  term  of  oppro- 
brium, and  naturally  had  felt  wounded  by  it!  A  laboured 
explanation  followed,  which  with  difficulty  reassured  the  old 
master  that  no  offence  was  intended,  or  stigma  cast  upon  him, 
by  his  favourite's  remark. 

Alter  a  six  weeks'  passage,  and  much  suffering  from  it,  we 
landed  at  New  York,  and  from  that  time,  in  proportion  as  I 
regained  health  and  spirits,  Mr.  Mathews's  drooped,  and  a  phy- 
sician's aid  was  deemed  necessary,  who  gave  it  as  his  opinion 
that  the  transition  from  one  climate  to  another  was  alone  the 
cause  of  the  present  symptoms,  and  that  once  inured  to  the 
change  all  would  be  well.  The  poor  invalid  shook  his  head; 
3^et,  happily  for  myself,  I  believed  what  I  hoped. 

My  husband's  progress  during  our  stay  in  America  will,  per- 
haps, be  best  derived  from  my  letters  to  Charles. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  425 

To  Charles  J.  Mathews,  Esq. 

New  York,  September  30th,  1834. 
Congress  Hotel,  Broadway. 

Let  this  assure  yon  that  your  father  and  myself  are  at  lenc]^th  arrived 
in  this  city,  in  health  and  cheerfulness  of  mind.  You  may  the  more 
rejoice  at  this  intelligence  when  informed  also  of  the  suffering-  we  have 
experienced  for  forty  days  and  nights,  which  terminated  yesterday 
evening  in  the  most  glorious  sight  I  ever  beheld  or  could  conceive, 
namely,  the  Bay  of  New  York.  For  the  first  time  I  lamented  that  you, 
my  dear  Charles,  were  not  with  us ;  for  during  our  passage  I  reckcmed 
it  as  the  only  consolation  that  you  were  not  a  partaker  of  our  misery, 
— my  unbroken,  and  almost  intolerable  wretchedness.  Assuredly  every- 
thing we  see  now  before  us  repays  the  long  arrear  of  comfort  and  ease 
due  at  the  close  of  our  voyage,  which  I  shall  not  scruple  to  confess  has 
been  worse  than  can  be  described.  We  experienced  the  most  severe 
gales,  storms,  and  every  rigour  of  weather  that  might  have  been  ex- 
pected from  a  December  or  January  season.  In  fact,  so  unfortunate  a 
voyage  had  never  before  been  experienced  by  the  captiiin,  who  had  hi» 
share  of  sickness  and  chagrin,  and  in  vain  attempted  to  hide  his  anxiety 
and  vexation  from  his  ptissengers.  Your  father  happily,  with  the 
exception  of  one  or  two  qualms,  kept  his  usual  health,  although  without 
sleep  the  greater  part  of  the  time. 

Well,  here  all  the  difficulties,  sufferings,  and  vexations  of  the  cabin  are 
changed  to  a  pleasant,  indeed  I  may  call  it  an  elegant  room,  as- large  as 
our  own  drawing-room.  Thus  all  is  reversed,  and  the  bright  side  of 
the  medal  is  before  us.  Everybody  seems  ready  to  oblige,  and  all  are 
glad  to  see  your  father. 

I  have  not  yet  been  out,  but  I  am  reminded  of  Paris  ;  the  street  is  as 
gay  as  represented  in  Mr.  Burlbrd's  Panorama,  the  ladies  as  fine.  Miss 
"  Clara  Fisher"  has  just  passed,  in  the  form  of  an  omnibus,  and 
"  Washington  Irving"  is  represented  by  a  similar  machine.  Mr. 
-Buckstone  has  just  left  the  room  (with  a  black  face),  having  trimmed 
the  lamps  J*  so  that  some  English  associations  are  allowed  us.  Therfe 
are  private  cabriolets,  too :  one  has  passed  this  morning  with  a  gentle- 
man seated  in  the  very  centre  of  it.  Of  course  no  servant  or  tiger, 
because  the  master  leaves  no  room  inside ;  and,  as  the  entire  back  of  the 
cab  is  open,  it  would  be  inconvenient' if  he  stood  behind  it.  The  droll 
effect  of  this  it  is  easy  to  conceive.  One  fact  will  surprise  you :  the 
weather,  though  sunny,  is  very  cold. 

New  York,  October  14,  1834. 

Yesterday  was  "  the  day,  the  important  day,  big  with  the  fate  of 
Cato  and  of  Rome;"  simply,  it  was  that  of  your  father's  re-appearance 
upon  the  American  stage. 

Since  I  wrote  last,  he  recovered  his  health  considerably ;  but  yesterday 
morning  his  symptoms  of  performing  appeared,  and  i  yielded  to  his 

*  A  nepro  resembling  Mr.  Buckstone,  when  made  up  for  a  Black  in  **  Grace 
Huutley." 


426  THE   LIFE  AND   CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

desire  to  be  mIohp  and  took  a  trip  to  some  opposite  shore  till  dinner- 
time. We  went  over  to  the  city  of  New  Jersey.  Mr.  May  wood  arrived 
from  Phihidelphia  the  nic^ht  before  to  be  present  on  your  father's  first 
night.  He  was  apparently  ill,  and  unable  to  eat  any  dinner;  but  when 
your  father  went  away  to  the  theatre  to  dress,  he  revealed  to  me  that 
his  state  of  mind  since  his  arrival  had  been  most  wretched,  for  that 
**  he  found  placards  posted  about  New  York,  of  the  most  abominable 
nature,  inviting  hostility  towards  Mr.  Mathews,  and  that  he  feared  great 
opposition  would  be  made  to  his  appearing;  that  a  party  was  to  be 
expected,  undoubtedly,  and  that  he  had  abstained  from  informing  your 
father  of  this,  lest  the  knowledge  of  what  he  might  expect  should 
inca^mcitate  him  from  meeting  the  opposition  m.editated;  he  would  not 
therefore  be  prepared  for  it  until  he  was  ready  to  go  U|X)n  the  stage, 
when  Mr.  Simpson*  would  apprise  him  of  the  probability  of  disappro- 
bation, &c. 

I  need  not  tell  jou.  how  I  felt  at  this  intimation ;  but  I  was  resolved 
to  be  present,  and  near  your  father,  let  good  or  ill  befall  him.  Isidore 
Guillet  arrived,  by  invitation,  to  take  me  to  the  theatre;  and  he  also 
seemed  full  of  care,  looked  paler  than  usual,  and  when  he  found  me 
acquainted  with  what  was  threatened,  owned  that  he  was  also  aware  of 
it.  He,  as  well  as  Mr.  May  wood,  were  very  apprehensive  that  a  vulgar 
mob  would  "  annoy"  Mr.  Mathews  very  much  at  the  least,  by  endea- 
vouring to  prevent  his  performance. 

We  arrived  at  the  doors  of  the  theatre,  which  we  found  clogged  up 
with  crowds  of  people  endeavouring  to  gain  admission  in  vain.  It 
was  within  five  minutes'  time  of  the  curtain's  rising.  The  day  had 
been  rainy,  but  it  poured  in  the  evening,  and  here  stood  more  than  I 
can  guess  the  number  of,  in  this  wetting  weather,  striving  to  enter  a 
place  evidently  filled.  I  was  full  of  alarm,  for  I  saw  in  this  extra- 
ordinary anxiety  all  that  was  to  be  apprehended.  It  was  impossible 
for  us  to  think  of  penetrating  this  dense  mob  of  pressing  people ;  and 
had  there  not  been  an  entrance  by  the  stage  door,  we  must  have 
returned  home.  When  I  got  behind  the  scenes,  Mr.  Simpson  met  me 
with  a  countenance  of  dismay.  "  Wished  I  had  not  come,"  but  said 
Mrs.  Simpson  was  in  the  box  to  partake  of  my  feelings.  I  found  this 
dear  little  creature  in  dreadful  agitation.  She  declared  her  fears  of  the 
result,  and  endeavoured  to  stimulate  ray  courage  should  the  worst  be 
realized — namely,  Mr.  Mathews  not  being  allowed  to  perform.  We 
entered  the  private  box,  and  there,  what  a  house ! — not  a  nook  that  was 
not  crowded.  I  looked  at  the  pit,  where  every  night  before  I  had  seen 
the  lowest  orders  of  men  mixing  with  the  more  respectable,f  and  saw, 
what  appeared  to  me,  all  gentlemen.  This  revived  me.  1  looked  at 
the  box;es,  and  beheld  all  elegantly-dressed  people,  such  as  1  had  never 
seen  there  since  my  arrival. 

Isidore  endeavoured  to  prepare  me  for  the  peculiar  and  startling 

*  The  resident  proprietor, 
t  Feiuales  do  not  go  into  the  pit  at  New  York. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  427 

manner  which  the  Americans  adopted  to  express  their  an<^er  in  a 
theatre ;  and  with  a  sort  of  fright  unlike  any  I  have  before  felt,  I  saw 
dread  preparation  for  the  threatened  outrage.  After  the  table  and 
lamps  were  placed,  a  dead  silence  ensued  for  a  minute  (my  heart  died 
almost  in  that  minute),  when  the  prompter's  bell  was  rung;  and  before 
the  curtain  could  begin  to  obey  this  announcement  of  the  actor's 
readiness,  a  burst  of  the  most  stunning  applauses  I  ever  heard  put  all 
my  fears  aside.  The  curtain  then  rose,  your  father  walked  on  sternly, 
but  as  pale  as  death,  and  was  met  with,  such  plaudits  and  cheerings  as 
can  be  scarcely  imagined.  He  was  like  the  traveller  who  refused  to 
yield  his  bosom  to  the  rude  assault  of  the  cutting  wind,  but  who 
instantly  threw  aside  his  cloak  to  the  kindly  beams  of  the  sun.  He 
was  prepared  for  violence,  but  the  warmth  of  what  seemed  almost 
affection,  so  overset  his  firmness,  that  I  was  afraid  he  would  not  recover 
it  sufficiently  to  fulfil  his  task. 

In  his  address  it  was  requisite  that  he  should  touch  upon  his 
expected  repulse,  the  injustice  of  which  he  was  bent  on  proving,  by  his 
purposed  performance  of  his  "  Trip  to  America"  during  his  engagement. 
He  really  spoke  well,  and  was  frequently  interrupted  by  the  most' 
vehement  general  applause  and  acclamations.  The  pit  rose  to  a  man  ; 
and,  waving  their  hats,  gave  three  cheers.  He  then  commenced  his 
performance,  and  nowhere  has  it  been  more  judiciously  appreciated,  or 
more  joyously  and  attentively  listened  to,  for  the  audience  waived  the 
general  custom  of  leaving  their  jieats  (usual  even  in  the  boxes)  between 
every  act ;  during  the  whole  night  not  one  person  moved.  "  Monsieur 
Tonson"  succeeded  the  two  Table-acts,  and  was  equally  well  received, 
and,  when  over,  your  father  was  called  for.  After  a  short  resistance  he 
came  forward,  reiterated  his  thanks,  &c.,  and  the  aucience  left  the 
house.  Whether  those  who  came  to  scoff  remained  to  applaud,  is  not 
ascertained ;  but  as  no  hostile  effect  appeared,  from  first  to  last,  it  is 
fair  and  charitable  to  suppose  that  the  enemy  had  repented  his  "  foul 
intent,"  and  withdrawn  it  altogether. 

You  will  be  glad  to  hear  that  your  father  never  played  better  or 
stronger :  he  even  danced,  gratuitmisly,  I  may  say,  in  the  last  scene  of 
"  Morbleu,"  so  little  did  he  feel  his  lameness.  During  the  evening,  it 
appears,  "  the  weak  invention  of  the  enemy"  was  successfully  peeled 
off  the  walls  of  the  rival  theatre.     I  give  you  the  benefit  of  a  copy: — 

*'  Notice. 

"  We  understand  Charles  Mathews  is  to  play  on  Monday  evening, 
the  13th  instant.  The  scoundrel  ought  to  be  pelted  from  an  American 
stage,  alter  his  writing  that  book  which  he  did  about  six  years  ago, 
called  *  Mathews's  Caricature  on  America.'  This  insult  upon  Americans 
ought  to  meet  with  the  contempt  it  deserves.  After  using  the  most 
vile  language  against  the  *  too  easily  duped  Yankees,'  as  he  calls  us,  he 
thinks  thus  to  repay  us  for  our  kindness  towards  him.  But  we  hope 
they  will  show  him  that  we  are  not  so  easily  duped  this  time  as  we 
were  then,  and  drive  the  ungrateful  slanderer  from  our  stage  for  ever," 


428  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

Thus  ends,  without  printer's  name,  this  precious  morceau,  worthy  of 
a  place  in  our  book. 

The  few  we  know  here  have  been  with  us  to-day  to  talk  over  and 
congratulate  us  upon  this  extraordinary  turn  to  the  affair.  Your  father 
is  quite  well,  and  in  high  good  humour  :  the  sun  shines  brightly,  and 
all  is  in  keeping  with  his  triumphant  success. 

I  send  you  the  newspaper  accounts  of  the  night,,  which  are  accurate 
and  consistent..  A.  M. 


"Long  before  the  rising  of  the  curtain,  every  part  of  the  house  was 
literally  crammed.  A  belief  generally  prevailed  that  a  determined  and 
systematic  opposition  to  Mr.  Mathews  had  been  formed,  to  prevent  his 
re-appearance  on  the  American  stage,  in  consequence  of  a  report  that 
he  had,  after  his  return  to  London  from  the  United  States,  ridiculed 
our  national  character  and  reviled  our  institutions.  Placards  of  a  most 
violent  and  inftanmiatory  description,  calculated  to  enlist  the  worst 
feelings  of  the  community  against  him,  were  industriously  circulated  in 
the  course  of  the  day,  and  a  stormy  night  at  the  Park'  Theatre  was 
generally  anticipated.  Oar  expectations,  we  are  happy  to  say,  were 
very  agreeably  disappointed.  A  most  tremendous  shout  greeted  him, 
and  the  plaudits  and  clapping,  and  stamping  and  cheering,  and  throwing 
up  of  hats  in  the  pit  drowned  everything  for  some  seconds.  Not  a 
solitary  hiss  was  heard.  Mr.  Mathews,  placing  himself  behind  his 
table,  continued  bowmg  and  bowing,  deeply  affected.  Silence  being 
obtained,  he  addressed  the  audience  in  a  strain  of  eloquence.  He 
sincerely  thanked  them  for  their  warm  and  generous  reception  of  him, 
and  asked,  was  it  possible,  if  he  was  guilty,  that  he  would  have  thus 
come  here  to  face  them  ? — No.  '  I  am  not  acting  now,'  said  Mr. 
Mathews,  with  great  feeling,  which  had  an  electric  effect.  The  most 
tremendous  applause  followed  this  speech,  and  and  the  play  proceeded. 

"  It  is  unnecessary  to  say,,  that  his  rich  acting  was  the  same  rich  treat 
of  exquisite  humour,  under  a  succession  of  remarkable,  some  of  them 
almost  supernatural,  transformations — more  perfect  even  than  when 
here  before.  His  voice,  perhaps,  is  not  quite  so  vigorous.  The  Police 
Court,  and  the  old  Epicure  in  bed,  were  admirable ;  also  his  Monsieur 
Tonson.  After  the  latter  he  was  called  out,  and  repeated  what  lie  had 
said  on  his  first  entrance,  adding,  that,  to  prove  that  he  had  not  done 
injustice,  or  been  ungrateful  to  us,  he  would,  with  their  permission,  take 
occasion  hereafter  to  enact  before  them  his  whole  *  Trip  to  America,* 
verbatim  et  literatim,  and  abide  the  issue  of  their  verdict. 

"  Mr.  Mathews  appears  to-night  in  his  far-famed  and  much-discoursed- 
of  *  Trip  to  America.'  It  was  this  piece  in  which  he  was  said  to  have 
perpetrated  those  awful  and  unpardonable  slanders  upon  our  nation,  its 
manners,  character,  and  institutions.  The  New  York  audience  who 
have  consented,  in  spite  of  these  terrible  calaiimies,  to  be  amused  by 
Mr.  Mathews's  unequalled  performances,  will  now  be  able  to  judge  for 
themselves  of  the  enormity  of  his  guilt  towards  our  countrymen.    We 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  429 

were  very  proud  of  the  high  feeling  and  intelh'gence  manifested  hy  the 
audience  on  the  first  night  of  his  appearance,  when,  fully  believing  all 
that  was  charged  against  Mr.  Mathews,  they  went  in  vast  numbers, 
not  merely  to  hear  him  courteously,  but  resolved  to  suppress  any  oppo- 
sition. The  calumny  most  undeniably  was  started  by  some  personal 
enemy  to  Mr.  Mathews, — some  Englishman,  who  strove  to  wreak  his 
spite  through  the  agency  of  our  prejudices  and  credulity.  The  fool  was 
mistaken ;  we  are  above  such  things,  and  could  not  be  made  his  tools. 
Mathews  has  done  no  more  for  us  than  he  did  for  his  countrymen,  and 
they  laughed,  as  we  did,  at  their  own  caricatures.  We  are  assured  that 
the  piece  will  be  given  exactly  as  it  was  in  London." 


To  Charles  J.  Mathews,  Esq. 

Broome-street,  New  York,  Oct.  30th,  1834. 

You  will  see  by  the  above  address  that  we  have  quitted  the  hotel  we 
were  at ;  in  fact,  we  were  turned  out,  the  master  of  it  having  been 
compelled  to  sell  up,  and  not  apprising  us  of  his  situation  until  a  few 
days  before.  We  (that  is,  I  and  Mr.  John  Mason,  Charles  Kemble's 
nephew)  walked  about  the  streets,  morning,  noon  and  night,  in  search 
of  some  habitation,  in  vain !  It  is  hardly  comprehensible  to  a  person  in 
England  that  two  people,  in  such  a  city  as  New  York,  could,  with 
money  to  pay  for  it,  be  without  shelter  in  any  house  of  entertainment; 
but,  as  there  are  no  lodging-houses  here,  and  all  the  boarding-houses 
and  hotels  were  full,  we  found  ourselves,  after  the  most  persevering 
and  strenuous  efforts,  on  a  Friday  evening  destitute  of  a  place  to  receive 
us  on  the  following  morning,  when  all  our  hotel  furniture  was  to  be 
removed  and  servants  discharged  ! 

In  this  really  alarming  dilemma  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Simpson  proposed  to 
"  do  their  best,"  and  take  us  into  their  house.  We  had  no  alternative, 
and  in  spite  of  the  manifest  inconvenience  they  must  undergo,  we 
came  in  here  with  all  our  baggage  a  fortnight  ago,  and  everything 
that  old  and  dear  friends  might  have  been  expected  to  do  to  make  us 
comfortable  and  happy  has  been  done  by  these  amiable  persons. 

Your  father  has  played  his  "Trip  to  America"  twice.  The  first 
night  was  an  anxious  one,  as  you  may  imagine,  but  the  same  determined 
spirit  sustained  him  throughout,  as  was  so  remarkably  displayed  on  his 
first  appearance.  One  "ill-natured  fellow  in  the  pit"*  tried  to  be 
heard ;  but  his  attempt  was  drowned  in  the  ocean  of  general  approba- 
tion and  good  humour,  and  he  gave  up  the  effort.  Your  lather's 
benefit  comes  on  to-morrow  night,  the  last  of  his  engagement,  and  we 
then  proceed  to  Philadelphia. 

If  1  have  less  amusement  for  you  than  you  expected,  you  must  place 
the  failure  to  my  cold,  our  removal,  and  the  bustle  and  anxiety  of  your 
father's  professional  affairs — harassing  I  will  confess  them  to  have 

*  A  dramatic  fallacy  ;  it  being  common  for  an  unsuccessful  actor  or  author 
to  faucy  that  the  opposition  proceeds  only  from  one  person  in  the  pit. 


430  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

been — but  the  worst  is  over,  I  trust,  and  we  shall  enter  Philadelphia 
with  renewed  hope  and  health.  1  think  your  father's  indisposition  was 
chiefly  nervous ;  but  a  physician  whom  I  persuaded  him  to  call  in  the 
second  week  after  we  arrived,  and  who  went  away  without  writing  a 
prescription,  confessed  to  us  the  day  before  yesterday,  that  when  we 
entered  New  York  the  cholera  was  fearfully  prevalent,  but  every  care 
was  taken  to  conceal  the  fact ;  and  that  though  your  father  had  no  part 
of  the  disorder,  nevertheless  he  felt  what  all  previously  healthy  strangers 
felt,  and  I  might  also  have  experienced  a  similar  feeling,  had  I  not 
been  so  very  ill  just  before  I  entered  New  York.  The  disease  has  dis- 
appeared since  the  colder  weather,  for  it  is  consistently  cold  now,  though 
brightly  sunny ;  I  can,  however,  understand  now  why  this  climate  is  so 
trying  to  strangers.  It  is  neither  the  cold  of  winter  nor  the  heat  of 
summer  that  injures  the  constitution  of  a  European,  however  rigorous 
both  of  these  may  be,  but  it  is  the  transitions,  the  changeableness  of 
the  weather — one  day  muslin  and  lace  too  much  to  bear,  and  the  next, 
flannels  and  furs  insufficient  to  keep  out  the  severity  of  the  cold.  These 
extremes  I  have  felt  already,  but  the  Indian  summer  is  commencing, 
and  I  understand  that  the  weather  then  is  not  so  variable  as  any  other ; 
not  warm,  of  course,  but  unclouded  and  dry. 

When  I  began  this  letter  I  did  not  mean  to  dwell  upon  the  subject 
of  the  partial  opposition  endeavoured  to  be  got  up  by  the  few  who  were 
enemies  to  the  theatre,  as  well  as  to  your  father,  because  I  felt  it  diffi- 
cult to  make  you  understand  how  he  triumphed ;  but  as  the  scraps  from 
the  newspapers  will  in  some  part  give  you  intelligence,  I  shall  briefly 
add,  that  "  The  Trip  to  America  "  was  ibllowed  by  an  appeal  by  your 
father  to  the  house,  to  pronounce  whether  he  was  guilty  of  the  charge 
of  abusing  the  Americans  in  it,  or  not  guilty  ?  In  answer  to  this,  all 
the  pit,  and  I  may  say,  every  gentleman  in  the  theatre  rose,  and  in  a 
thunder  of  voices,  simultaneously  shouted  "  Not  Guilty." 

It  was  a  curious  result  in  a  theatre.  Much  excitement,  and,  indeed, 
harass  of  spirits  may  be  imagined  by  you  out  of  all  this,  but  I  do  not 
attempt  to  withhold  the  truth :  having  told  j^ou  everything,  you  would 
at  once  conceive  every  consequence,  your  father's  agitation,  &c.  It  is 
over  now,  and  there  is  no  harm  therefore  in  this  confession.  To-night 
he  takes  his  benefit,  and  completes  this  engagement. 

We  are  inundated  by  gentlemen-beggars  of  all  sorts.  Not  a  day  but 
some  disappointed  Englishman  applies  for  money ;  all  want  to  go  back 
to  their  own  country,  and  all,  need  I  say  it  P  require  your  father  to  pay 
their  passage  home.  If  he  had  answered  every  demand  of  this  sort,  all 
his  profits  would  have  been  disposed  of. 

Your  father  was  shocked,  on  his  first  day's  abode  in  Broadway,  to 
find  that  the  "  Omnibus  nuisance  "  was  threefold  what  he  experienced 
in  London.  He,  to  my  amazement,  appeared  as  much  a  stranger  here 
as  myself:  everything  was  as  new  to  him  as  if  he  had  never  been  in 
the  country  before ;  not  because  it  was  much  altered,  but  because  he 
had  ceased  to  remember  anything ;  and  he  verified  the  remark  com- 
pletely, that  nothing  is  more  new  than  that  which  has  been  forgotten. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  431 

One  thin<2:  he  witnessed  which  much  surprised  him, — a  trotting-match 
between  two  horses  in  harness,  at  the  rate  of  twenty-two  miles  an  hour, 
in  three  two-mile  heats.  I  suppose  this  is  interesting  to  every  horse- 
man, and  so  I  mention  it  for  your  especial  wonder. 

Fop — I  have  never  yet  mentioned  Fop,  I  believe.  He  is  at  this  time 
well  and  happy;  but  he  detested  the  ship,  and  the  sailors,  and  all 
nautical  sounds.  He  is  immensely  admired  here  by  all  ranks;  and  as 
he  is  unique,  he  is  considered  and  looked  at  as  a  lusus  natures  by  all 
untravelled  Americans. 

The  following  address  I  prepared  for  your  father,  he  being  too 
anxious  and  agitated  to  write  anything  himself,  or  to  trust  to  his  nerves 
at  the  last  moment  for  appropriate  words.  He  spoke  it  with  good 
effect  previously  to  the  commencement  of  his  "  Trip  to  America." 

"  Ladies  and  Gentlemen, — The  moment  long  promised  to  myself  is 
arrived,  and  I  am  about  to  place  before  you,  in  my  entertainment  called 
the  *  Trip  to  America,'  in  1823,  the  very  head  and  front  of  my  (supposed) 
offence,  when  I  presumed  to  use  this  country,  as  I  have  so  many  others, 
for  the  purposes  of  good-humoured  mirth  and  amusement. 

"  It  has  been  insinuated,  maliciously,  I  will  say,  that  I  have  in  this 
instance  misemployed  my  humble  talents  in  misrepresenting  and  abusing 
a  country  which,  in  fact,  I  quitted  with  the  warmest  feelings  of  esteem 
and  gratitude.  This  evening's  trial,  I  hope,  will  release  me  from  th€ 
charge ;  and  as  I  shall,  in  my  performance,  nothing  extenuate,  nor  set 
down  aught  unsaid  in  England  eleven  years  ago,  when  first  this  enter- 
tainment was  given  to  the  public,  I  trust  your  candour  will  give  rae  a 
patient  judgment,  and  form  your  decision. 

*'  For  a  period  of  fifteen  years,  during  which  time  these  peculiar  per- 
formances have  been  before  the  public,  I  never  recollect,  except  in  this 
instance,  having  been  charged  with  using  my  small  powers  for  the 
purposes  of  mere  ridicule  or  personal  pique.  My  aim  has  been  to 
please ;  my  interest,  had  my  disposition  been  otherwise,  prompted  me 
to  avoid  giving  offence  and  making  enemies.  My  sketches  are  strictfy 
those  of  manners ;  and  as  amusement  is  positively  required  of  me,  I 
naturally  and  necessarily  seize  upon  those  prominences  of  character 
most  likely  to  afford  it.  In  my  several  delineations  of  the  English, 
Scotch,  Irish,  Welsh,  and  French,  I  have  unhesitatingly  delivered  to 
them  upon  their  own  ground,  their  respective  peculiarities  and  manners, 
and  have  never,  in  a  single  instanpe,  given  offence.  As  I  dealt  with' 
them,  so  I  dealt  with  America :  what  I  found  a  source  of  innocent 
amusement,  I  certainly  made  use  of;  but  I  never  intentionally,  or  with 
knowledge,  touched  upon  individual  feeling  with  ill-nature  or  a  desire 
to  wound  ;  and,  least  of  all,  could  I  deliberately  put  forth  any  matter 
so  grossly  contradictory  to  my  known  sentiments  of  America,  as  that 
insinuated  by  persons  evidently  as  indisposed  to  truth  as,  in  this  parti- 
cular case,  they  were  ignorant  of  it. 

"  Ladies  and  Gentlemen, — I  will  briefly  add,  that  my  reliance  is  on 
your  kind  and  patient  hearing,  and  at  the  most,  if  I  offend,  that  you 
will  believe  I  do  it  uucour>ciously." 


4eS2  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONJDENCE  OF 

The  performance  proceeded  with  general  approbation  ;  and  at  its  con- 
elusion  all  present  were  fully  satisfied  that  the  nature  of  the  piece  had 
been  misrepresented,  and  that  it  really  contained  nothing  whatever 
offensive  to  the  American  people.  Your  father  then  addressed  the 
house,  and  said : — "  Ladies  and  gentlemen  :  I  have  redeemed  my  pledge. 
I  assured  you  I  would  deliver  the  entertainment  called  the  'Trip  to 
America,'  verlmtim  et  literatim  ;  I  solemnly  declare  I  have  not  omitted 
one  line,  excepting  descriptiont?  of  localities;  such  as  the  distance 
between  one  city  and  another,  &c.  which  would  have  occupied  time 
without  being  amusing.  I  made  use  accidentally  of  the  expression, — 
*  I  will  put  myself  on  my  trial.'  I  have  been  fairly  judged.  Now, 
gentlemen  of  the  jury,  what  say  you,  'Guilty  or  not  guilty,'  of  having 
libelled  or  ridiculed  you?' — *Not  guilty!'  shouted  the  whole  pit;  and 
he  withdrew  amidst  cheers  from  all  parts  of  the  house. 

A.M. 

After  this  agitation  had  so  happily  terminated,  and  his  attrac- 
tion proved  unabated,  something  like  convalescence  appeared,  at 
least  good  spirits,  which  (constituted  as  he  was)  always  bore  the 
name  of  good  health  ;  and  in  a  short  letter  to  Charles,  enclosing 
a  bill  of  exchange,  he  wrote,  elated  with  the  result : — "  I  have 
only  time  to  say  that  all's  well !  My  ninth  and  last  night — 
tirst  engagement.  I  have  finished  as  I  began,  with  glory.  The 
enclosure,  as  Inkle  says,  is  '  no  bad  specimen  of  savage  elegance.' 
Pay  it  into  Cockburn's  directly.  Love  Captain  Britton  for  my 
sake.     Pay  him  what  attention  you  can  afford."* 

To  Charles  J.  Mathews,  JEsq. 

Philadelphia,  November  14,  1834. 
My  deae  Chaeles, — Your  father  opened  here  on  Monday  night  to 
an  immense  and  enthusiastic  audience,  unmixed  with  any  idea  of  anger 
against  him,  like  that  dreaded  at  New  York;  and  to-night  he  is  per- 
forming for  the  third  time.  His  success  is  now  certain  here  and  else- 
where. He  is  gone  to  the  theatre  in  better  health  and  spirits  than  on 
any  preceding  night, — for  he  has  not  been  quit«  well  since  he  landed  in 
America.  Though  he  has  persevered  in  performing  on  the  appointed 
nights,  he  has  not  always  been  fit  for  so  much  exertion ;  nor  will  he, 
I  believe,  be  able  to  fulfil  his  original  hopes  and  intentions  by  working 
often  enough,  to  render  that  advantage  from  his  coming  which  he  could 
derive  from  more  frequent  performances.  He  is  not  ill,  observe, — but 
he  is  not  well.  The  climate  has  not  agreed  with  him ;  his  spirits  are 
not  good ;  yet  there  is  no  fear  of  anything  worse  befalling  him  than 
the  realization  of  less  money  than  he  calculated  upon,  had  he  the 
strength  to  work  for  it.  If  the  climate  continue  thus  to  afiect  him,  I 
shall  encourage  his  return  in  the  spring ;  that  is,  so  as  to  be  in  England 

*  The  captain  of  the  Canada,  in  which  we  sailed  to  America.     For  this 
gentleman  Mr.  Mathews  conceived  a  great  partiality. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  433 

before  the  autumn.  What  he  will  receive  will  be  worth  coming  for; 
and  if  not  as  much  as  we  hoped,  we  must  all,  nevertheless,  be  satisfied; 
but  I  cannot  allow  him  to  do  more  than  seems  consistent  with  his 
perfect  safety,  let  what  will  befall.  Those  who  love  him  will  not  wish 
it ;  aud  for  those  who  do  not,  why,  what  are  they  to  us  where  your 
father's  health  is  at  stake  ?* 

It  is  extraordinary  how  quickly  the  weeks  slide  on ;  although  we  have 
little  to  record,  yet  we  have  much  to  occupy  us.  I  never  read,  visit 
little,  and  still  I  am  never  at  leisure. 

Philadelphia  is  a  city  quite  of  another  character,  yet  equally  to  be 
liked  with  New  York.  Its  white  marble  and  dove-coloured  marble  would, 
I  think,  vie  with  Italy.  Indeed,  you  would  see  much  in  the  public 
buildings  here  to  admire  and  praise.  The  weather  is  lovely,  warm,  and 
sunny.     They  call  November  their  Indian  summer. 

A.M. 

*  It  will  easily  be  understood  that  it  was  a  difficult  and  painful  task  to 
write  the  truth,  and  yet  not  seriously  afflict  Charles,  hope  still  supporting  nae 
and  promising  a  happy  change. 


F  F 


431  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONDENCE  OF 


CHAPTEE  XLII. 


Dinner  at  Pliiladelphia  in  compliment  to  Mr.  Sheridan  Knowles — Mr.  Mathews's 
speech  on  that  occasion — Letters  to  Mr.  0.  J.  Mathews  ;  Mr.  Trelawney  ; 
Illness  of  Mr.  Mathews,  and  prohability  of  his  premature  return  to  England  ; 
reception  of  Mr.  Mathews  at  Boston — The  Scots'  Charitable  Society  of  Boston 
— Letter  from  Mrs.  Pierce  Butler  to  Mr.  Mathews  ;  information  touching 
the  Canadas — Letter  from  Mr.  Mathews  to  his  son — Letters  from  Mrs. 
Mathews  to  Mr.  C.  J.  Mathews ;  preaching  of  Dr.  Wainwright — Fop  and  his 
impudent  claimant. 

On  our  arrival  at  Philadelphia,  a  dinner  in  compliment  to  Mr. 
Sheridan  Knowles  as  a  dramatist  was  in  anticipation,  and  Mr. 
Mathews  was  invited  to  it  by  Mr.  Pierce  Butler  and  other 
leading  persons  on  the  occasion. 

In  the  course  of  this  dinner,  Mr.  Eichard  Penn  Smith,  one 
of  the  vice-presidents,  having  been  called  upon  by  the  president 
for  a  toast,  rose  and  said : — 

Me.  Peesident, — It  has  been  remarked  that  he  who  made  two  blades 
of  grass  grow  where  but  one  grew  before,  is  an  important  benefactor 
of  mankind, — and  so  he  is :  but,  permit  me,  sir,  to  add  to  this  just 
observation,  that  he  who  has  taken  one  wrinkle  from  the  brow  where 
the  hand  of  care  may  have  planted  two,  is,  in  my  judgment,  a  bene- 
factor of  a  much  higher  order.  With  these  brief  remarks  I  will  pro- 
pose the  health  of  a  gentleman,  distinguished  both  abroad  and  "  at 
home"  as  one  of  the  highest  ornaments  of  his  profession — I  drink  the 
health  of  Charles  Mathews,  the  first  comedian  of  the  age. 

This  sentiment  was  received  with  great  enthusiasm  by  the  whole 
company.  When  the  lively  expressions  of  applause  had  subsided,  Mr. 
Mathews  said : — 

Gentlemen, — I  am  taken  by  surprise,  and  must  confess  that  I  am 
therefore  unprepared  to  acknowledge,  in  a  manner  adequate  to  the 
occasion,  those  feelings  which  now  really  almost  overpower  me,  for 
the  honour  of  your  invitation,  and  the  kind,  flattering  manner  in  which 
you  have  drunk  my  health.  I  had  believed  this  day  to  have  been 
devoted  to  one  particular  object,  and  I  am  therefore  convinced  that  you 
neither  expect  nor  wish  me  to  occupy  your  time  by  addressing  you  at 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  435 

lengih.  As  I  am  more  famed  for  delivering  the  matter  of  others 
than  my  own,  I  shall  parody  a  speech  of  the  celebrated  French  trage- 
dian, Talma,  when  a  farewell  dinner  was  given  to  John  Philip  Kemble, 
upon  his  retirement  from  the  stage,  and,  with  your  permission,  in  his 
manner : — "  On  a  day  consecrated  to  my  dear  friend  {ku^wios,  }  it  will  not 
be  expected  dat  I  should  be  lisen  to  vid  interest,  more  particuliere  as  I 
am  not  capable  to  express  in  your  language  vat  I  feel ;  but  ven  de 
tongue  cannot  speak,  de  heart  most,  and  I  tank  you  from  de  bottom  of 
dat  heart  for  dis  honour." — Proud  and  happy  am  I,  indeed,  to  witness 
a  day  consecrated  to  my  illustrious  countryman; — I  say  countryman, 
for  he  is  a  Briton — and  Irish,  English,  and  Scotch,  are  of  the  same 
country,  and  long  may  they  continue  brothers !  It  is  indeed  gratifying 
to  find  so  many  enthusiastic  friends  to  the  drama  on  this  side  of  the 
Atlantic.  This  is  a  cheering  sight :  this  meeting  does  equal  honour  to 
those  who  give  and  him  who  receives.  It  is  calculated  to  elevate  the 
drama  in  the  eyes  of  its  enemies,  and  I  cannot  but  proudly  feel  that  a 
part  of  the  compliment  is  paid  to  my  profession.  I  have  the  gratifica- 
tion of  being  able  to  boast  that  I  am  a  contemporary  of  James  Sheridan 
Knowles ;  and  I  share  in  common  with  him  the  delight  of  witnessing 
our  art  upheld  by  such  an  assemblage.  One  thing  I  selfishly  rejoice 
in, — which  is,  that  your  kind  invitation  has  given  me  an  opportunity  of 
an  explanation  which  otherwise  would  not  have  been  afforded  me. 
Certain  calumnies  have  been  circulated  against  me.  It  has  been  asserted 
in  print,  that  I  have  caricatured, — libelled, — ridiculed  this  country  :  it 
is  false !  Your  talented  guest  of  this  day  can  vouch  for  the  consistency 
of  my  expressions  of  gratitude. 

Mr.  Knowles  bore  testimony  to  the  warm  and  generous  terms  in 
which  his  friend  Mathews  had  invariably  spoken  of  America  on  the 
other  side  the  Atlantic ;  and  alluded  to  the  astonishment  wntli  which 
he  had  heard  of  rumours  attempted  to  be  circulated  prejudicial  to  the 
distinguished  comedian,  knowing,  as  he  had  every  opportunity  of 
knowing,  the  admiration  which  Mr.  Mathews  always  expressed  towards 
the  citizens  of  this  country. 

Mr.  Mathews  himself,  who  was  an  invited  guest,  and  largely  contri- 
buted to  the  conviviality  of  the  evening,  satisfied  the  company  of  the 
gross  injustice  that  had  been  done  him,  and  of  the  utter  absurdity  of 
supposing  him  capable  of  speaking  disrespectfully  of  a  people  to  whom 
he  is  under  so  many  obligations,  and  for  whom  he  had  always  felt  and 
expressed  the  highest  admiration.* 


To  Charles  J.  Mathews,  Usq. 

Philadelphia,  December  3,  1834. 
We  are  in  the  habit  of  seeing  Mr.  Trelawney  (Lord  Byron's  Tre- 
lawney,  and,  moreover,  your  friend  Sir  William  Molesworth's  cousin), 
and  think  him  a  most  agreeable  and  clever  man.     He  has  dined,  supped, 

♦  Philadelphia  paper. 
r  r2 


436  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

walked,  &c.,  with  us;  recollects  and  talks  of  you;  and,  in  fact,  is  a 
sparkling  jewel  in  our  way,  picked  up  in  this  huge  mine  of  dulness. 

I  shall,  when  I  next  address  you,  be  better  able  to  form  an  idea  of 
the  probable  plan  which  your  father's  health  and  experience  may  find  it 
expedient  to  determine  upon.  Boston  may  agree  with  him  better  than 
these  warmer  places,  and  reinstate  him  sufficiently  to  allow  of  his 
making  other  engagements,  which  I  pray  Heaven  he  may  be  able  to 
do.  But  the  transitions  of  weather  are  really  more  surprising  than  I 
could  believe :  frost  and  snow  one  day  ;  the  next,  summer,  and  the  heat 
insupportable. 

But  I  am  well,  thank  God  !  and  doubly  thankful  for  being  so,  as  it 
renders  your  father's  indisposition  more  tolerable  to  him  than  it  would 
otherwise  be.  Fop  is  also  in  good  health,  and  fresher  in  intellect  than 
ever :  indeed,  he  is  a  most  sensible  and  desirable  friend  here.  He  made 
his  first  appearance  in  America  a  few  nights  ago,  and  repeats  the 
character  of  Dragon  in  the  "  Lone  House"  to-night !  His  performance 
was  perfect,  and  met  with  universal  approval.  Mrs.  Pierce  Butler  Avas 
enchanted  with  his  acting,  and  she  is  a  judge,  and  Mr.  Trelawney 
thought  him  excessively  good.  Your  father  is  just  come  home :  his 
benefit  was  very  great. 

Tremont  Hotel,  Boston,  December  7,  1834. 
I  meant  to  finish  this  letter  during  a  day's  stay  at  New  York,  we 
having  intended  to  halt  there  Friday  night,  and  resume  our  journey  to 
this  place  yesterday  evening.  Instead  of  this,  finding  that  no  packet 
sailed  until  Monday,  we  were  obliged  to  proceed  from  New  York, 
merely  quitting  one  vessel  for  another,  with  scarcely  time  to  effect  the 
removal  of  luggage :  we  therefore  arrived  here  last  night.  Your  father 
wishes  me  to  apprize  you  of  the  possibility,  nay,  probability,  of  our 
return  to  England  by  the  middle  of  February.  This  will  surprise, 
and,  I  fear,  alarm  you.  But  it  need  not ;  for  though  your  father  has 
not  been  well  here,  I  am  satisfied  that  the  climate  of  England  would 
speedily  set  all  to  rights.  He  is  affected,  certainly,  by  climate  chiefly, 
and  Dr.  Pattison  thinks  so,  too.  The  fuel  disagrees  with  him ;  i\\Q 
food,  and  manner  of  dressing  it ;  the  transitions  of  weather,  &c. 
In  short,  Boston  is  to  decide  everything :  if  he  is  not  better  here,  it 
will  be  useless  to  remain ;  since  he  is  not  capable  of  going  through  his 
work,  and  it  is  distressing  to  me  to  see  him  attempt  it. 

I  only  went  one  night  at  Philadelphia  to  see  him,  and  it  made  me 
ill  to  perceive  how  great  an  effort  it  was  to  him  to  get  through.  He  is 
always  breaking  into  the  most  profuse  perspirations,  even  on  the 
coldest  day  :  his  skin  is  yellow,  and  he  has  fits  of  wheezing  and  diffi- 
culty of  breathing,  which  deprive  him  of  speech  for  a  time,  and  alarm 
me  (for  the  time)  exceedingly,  although  I  am  assured,  both  by  obser- 
vation and  experience,  that  these  attacks  are  not  dangerous.  He  is 
lethargic,  too,  and,  at  the  best,  in  low  spirits. 

The  medical  men  say  that  the  country  affects  him,  and  will  continue 
to  do  so,  they  think,  as  in  every  respect,  except  the  wheezing  (which 
he  had  sometimes  in  England),  his  indisposition  is   such   as   most 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  437 

strangers  feel  in  America.  In  short,  if  Boston  does  not  tend  to  improve 
him,  we  must  return  to  England;  and  if  J  feel  it  right  he  should  do 
80,  I  am  convinced  you  will  be  satisfied  that  it  is  necessary.  Yet, 
believe  me,  there  is  nothing  serious  in  his  complaint — nothing  to  alarm ; 
and  were  he  a  private  man,  he  might  remain  and  not  suffer  materially ; 
but  it  is  when  his  time  for  exertion  arrives  that  he  I'eels  his  illness, 
and  almost  incapacity  to  perform.  His  success  is  great,  and  he  is 
required  to  renew  his  engagements  at  New  York  and  Philadelphia. 
Every  manager  in  America  is  pressing  him  to  go  to  them,  but  he  must 
positively  give  up  the  scheme,  unless,  as  I  have  said,  his  health  returns. 

Now,  my  dearest  Charles,  do  not  for  a  moment  suspect  that  1  tell 
you  anything  but  the  truth,  nor  imagine  that  I  would  deceive  you.  It 
is  a  sad  disappointment — that  is,  it  will  be — to  return  with  our  object 
only  in  part  accomplished,  but  it  cannot  be  helped.  Nevertheless, 
make  up  your  mind  to  the  event,  which  may  be  averted  by  the  time 
you  receive  this  letter ;  and  you  need  not  be  told  that  my  wishes  are  to 
remain,  if  we  can  do  so  without  danger  to  your  father. 

He  desires  me  to  say,  that  under  the  impression  that  he  will  be 
obliged  to  return,  it  will  be  expedient  that  you  inform  Mr.  Yates  of  the 
probability  of  his  doing  his  "  At  Home"  at  the  usual  time  at  the 
Adelphi ;  and  he  wishes  you  to  see  Mr.  Peake  immediately,  for 
the  purpose  of  asking  him  whether  he  will  undertake,  in  concert  with 
you  as  formerly,  to  get  ready  an  entertainment  for  the  forthcoming 
season.  If  so,  you  may  both  go  to  work,  to  have  study  ready  for  him 
without  loss  of  time, 

I  am  well.  Heaven  seems,  in  its  goodness,  to  have  strengthened  me 
in  proportion  to  the  necessity  I  have  found  for  exertion.  Your  father 
declares  that  ray  coming  has  saved  his  life ;  for  that  he  could  never 
have  borne  his  depressing  sensations,  or  kept  up,  had  I  not  been  present 
to  cheer  and  assist  him.     This  is  consoling  and  satisfactory. 

And  now  I  must  tell  you  that  I  have  had  a  drive  to-day,  and  think 
Boston  a  charming  place.  Philadelphia  is  a  very  clean  and  pleasing 
city,  but  formal  as  a  draught-board,  which  it  resembles  in  plan,  and  is 
almost  as  lifeless.  Boston  is  as  clean,  as  bright,  but  more  lively  and 
matured  than  this  or  any  other  place  I  have  seen  in  America.  We  are 
more  comfortable  in  our  inn  than  we  have  found  ourselves  elsewhere ; 
and,  indeed,  I  cannot  help  reckoning  upon  your  father's  improvement 
under  these  improving  circumstances.  Boston,  everybody  says,  is  more 
English  than  any  other  place,  in  its  manners  and  ideas.  Prepare  to 
expect  us  (that  is,  prepare  your  thoughts) ;  but  be  not  quite  assured 
until  I  v*^rite  again.  A.  M. 


Boston,  December  18,  1834. 
Your  father  has  appeared  at  Boston  on  the  10th,  and  I  should  earlier 
have  apprized  you  of  his  gratifying  reception  from  a  great  house,  but 
that  this  pleasing  event  had  an  alloy  from  his  being  seized  with  a 
hoarseness  the  next  day,  which  has  precluded  a  second  appearance  up  to 
this  time,  to  the  general  regret  of  wife,  manager,  and  the  public.    Last 


438  THE  LIFE  AND  COERESPONDENCE  OF 

night,  however,  his  voice  burst  from  the  "  palpable  obscure"  of  the  last 
Heven  days  into  clearness.  To-day  promises  a  complete  dissolution  of 
the  ice-bound  matter,  which,  like  Munchausen's  frozen  horn,  will,  I 
trust,  next  Monday,  come  to  a  complete  thaw  of  words  before  a  warm 
and  genial  audience. 

It  is  hard  to  see  a  heap  of  shining  gold  lying  ready  to  be  taken  up, 
and  to  have  one's  hand  held  back  just  as  it  is  opened  to  grasp  the 
treasure.  But  though  this  is  to  be  deplored,  I  do  not  allow  myself  to 
be  quite  cast  down,  and  I  hope  you  will  not  entertain  any  desponding 
feelings ;  for  though  the  extent  of  our  expectations  cannot  be  realized, 
yet  much  more  will  be  effected  than  the  same  period  in  England  could 
have  given.  The  climate  must  be  blamed ;  it  disagrees  with  your 
father.  The  physicians  of  the  three  cities  refuse  to  prescribe  for  him, 
and  recommend  his  return  to  his  native  air.  Your  father  tells  me  that 
he  suffered  in  a  like  manner  here  formerly  ;  but,  doubtless,  his  being 
then  eleven  years  younger,  rendered  his  sensations  less  distressing  in 
this  respect.  He  is  much  better  to-day,  and  I  trust  he  may  be  able  to 
proceed  with  this  engagement,  which  promises  so  well;  after  which,  if 
he  be  able,  he  will  enter  into  another  at  New  York  ;  but  he  is  advised 
not  to  wander  far  from  the  ports,  where,  if  he  become  worse,  he  can 
every  week  find  a  vessel  ready  to  sail  for  Liverpool.  As  to  his  taking 
journeys  thousands  of  miles  from  place  to  place — to  say  nothing  of  the 
j'atigue  and  hardship  (for  such,  in  truth,  it  is)  of  travelling  in  the  "  new 
country,"  where  literally 

"All  is  uneven, 
And  everything  is  left  at  six  and  seven," 

it  is  out  of  the  question.  Any  gain  away  from  the  great  cities  is  not 
to  be  sought  for  under  his  uncertain  state  of  health,  and  the  dismal 
intervening  distances. 

Now,  my  dearest  Charles,  I  entreat  you  to  be  prompt  and  diligent 
respecting  your  father's  intimation  of  a  probable  necessity  for  an  enter- 
tainment next  year  at  the  Adelphi ;  for,  though  we  shall  cling  as  long 
as  possible  to  this  countr^^,  yet  I  would  have  you  consider  our  speedy 
return  probable,  and  to  expect  in  every  future  letter  an  announcement 
of  the  time. 

The  weather  here  last  Sunday  was  twelve  degrees  below  zero,  yester- 
day five,  and  to-day  it  is  twenty-eight  above  zero ;  so  you  see  what 
fluctuations  we  are  subject  to.  This  city  is  superior,  as  far  jis  I  can 
judge,  to  the  others  in  its  comforts,  its  habits,  and  its  people.  I  have 
received  more  attention,  and  therefore  perhaps  am  more  favourably  im- 
pressed. A  very  charming  woman,  a  person  of  fortune  and  the  best 
connexions,  has  really  behaved  like  an  old  friend :  she  is  a  sweet,  mild 
being,  the  widow  of  the  gentleman  whose  carriage  carried  your  father 
that  journey,  when  he  met  with  the  little  landlord,  whom  you  will 
remember  in  the  "  American  Trip."  Mr.  and  Mrs.  W.  H.  Eliot  were 
with  him  there  on  that  occasion.  She  is  the  image  of  Lady  lieresford, 
and  quite  English  in  her  language,  intonation,  and  manner;  so  that  I 
am  happier  in  Boston  than  I  have  yet  been. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  439 

Your  father  has  been  three  months  in  this  country,  and  has  only 
performed  nineteen  nights.  The  managers  have  all  been  distressed 
exceedingly  by  these  interruptions,  and  play  to  empty  houses  while  he 
lies  by :  the  people  and  their  dollars  lying  by  also  for  your  lather's 
re-appearance. 

Anne  Mathews. 


To  Charles  Mathews,  Esq. 

Boston,  Dec.  20th,  1834. 
Dear  Sie, — We,  the  undersigned,  at  the  particular  request  of  the 
Managers,  Members,  &c.,  of  the  Scots'  Charitable  Society  of  l^oston, 
Mass.,  are  deputed  to  present  unto  you  this  certificate  as  an  Honorary 
Member  of  their  very  honourable  and  ancient  Institution,  in  testimony 
of  your  liberal  donation  of  fifty  dollars,  received  through  the  hands  of 
Messrs.  Ben™.  Russell  and  James  A.  Dickens,  as  desired  by  you. 

In  performing  this  pleasant  duty,  may  we  be  permitted  to  communi- 
cate to  you  the  leelings  of  those  we  represent :  that  your  success  abroad 
as  well  as  "  at  home,"  may  be  equal  to  the  benevolence  of  your  exalted 
and  talented  mind. 

We  have  the  honour  to  be,  very  respectfully,  your  obedient  servants, 

James  Kett, 
James  Ceighton. 

The  donation  above  alluded  to  was  left  by  my  husband  when 
he  quitted  Boston  in  1823.  It  is  rare  to  find  an  obligation  of 
this  kind  outlive  the  time,  and  I  insert  it  as  honourable  to  the 
source  whence  it  came.  However,  this  society  is  composed  of 
Scotsmen,  and  that  partly  accounts  for  the  result.  This  long 
memory  of  a  boon  my  husband  prized  the  more,  because  it 
added  another  reason  for  his  love  of  the  Scottish  nation.  Several 
other  flattering  tributes  of  recollection  were  given  during  our 
stay,  equally  gratifying  to  Mr.  Mathews's  feelings. 

The  following  letter  from  Mrs.  Pierce  Butler*  was  solicited, 
not  only  for  the  information  it  contains,  but  as  an  addition  to 
my  husband's  collection  of  autographs : — 

To  Charles  Matheivs,  JEsq. 

Philadelphia,  Sunday,  Dec.  21st,  1834. 
My  deab  Sie, — I  learned  with  much  regret  that  you  are  still 
suffering  from  indisposition,  though  I  am  happy  to  find  that  it  is  not 
aggravated  by  quite  so  many  inconveniences  and  annoyances  as  3'ou  had 
to  endure  in  the  course  of  your  visit  to  Philadelphia.  The  pleasure  I 
derived  from  hearing  of  the  greater  comfort  of  your  surroundings,  and 
hospitality  of  the  people  among  whom  you  are  at  present  residing,  was 

*  Formerly  Miss  Fanny  Kemble. 


440  THE  LIFE  AND  COREESPONDENCE  OF 

partly  owing  to  the  confirmation  which  your  account  gave  to  a  previous 
opinion  I  had  entertained,  that  the  New  England  folk  are  far  more  like 
the  Old  England  folk  than  any  other  set  of  people  in  "  these  United 
States."  It  was  a  source  of  great  mortification  to  me  to  be  unable  to 
offer  either  to  yourself  or  Mrs.  Mathews  any  civility  but  that  barrenest 
of  all  social  ceremonies,  a  morning  call :  however,  I  could  not  help  my- 
self. Had  I  had  a  roof  of  my  own  over  my  head,  I  hope  it  would  have 
been  otherwise  ;  but  as  it  was,  I  placed  my  situation,  during  your  visit 
here,  down  on  that  long  account  of  inevitable  vexations  which,  as  we 
grow  older  seems  to  grow  longer,  as  our  patience  and  power  of  endurance 
wax  stronger. 

You  ask  me  for  information  about  the  Canadas ;  I  rather  hope  that 
is  only  an  indirect  way  of  getting  at  my  abominable  handwriting,  which 
I  know  you  desire  to  have.  I  hope  so,  because  the  information  that  I 
can  give  you  will,  I  fear,  prove  of  very  little  use  to  you.  We  went 
there,  I  believe,  upon  the  same  terms  as  everywhere  else,  i.e.,  division 
of  profits.  Vincent  de  Camp*  had  the  theatres  there,  and  (truth  is 
truth)  of  all  the  horrible  strolling  concerns  I  ever  could  imagine,  his 
company,  and  scenery,  and  gettings  up,  were  the  worst.  He  has  not 
got  those  theatres  now,  I  believe;  but  they  are  generally  opened  only 
for  a  short  time,  and  by  persons  as  little  capable  of  bringing  forward 
decent  dramatic  representations  as  he,  poor  fellow !  was. 

You  are,  however,  so  much  less  dependent  upon  others  than  we  were 
for  success,  that  this  might  prove  a  slighter  inconvenience  in  your 
instance.  Heaven  knows  the  company  would  have  been  blackguardly 
representatives  of  the  gentry  in  Tom  and  Jerry :  you  can  fancy  what 
they  were  in  heroicals.  Our  houses  were  good;  so,  I  think,  yours 
would  be :  but,  though  I  am  sure  you  would  not  have  to  complain  of 
want  of  hospitality,  either  in  Montreal  or  Quebec,  the  unspeakable  dirt 
and  discomfort  of  the  inns,  the  misery  of  the  accommodations,  the 
scarcity  of  eatables,  and  the  abundance  of  eaters  (fleas,  bugs,  &c.)  to- 
gether with  the  wicked  dislocating  road  from  St.  John's  to  La  Prairie, 
would,  I  fear,  make  up  a  sum  of  suffering,  for  which  it  would  be 
difficult,  in  my  opinion,  to  find  an  adequate  compensation.  In  the 
summer  time,  the  beauty  of  the  scenery  going  down  the  St.  Lawrence 
to  Montreal,  and  of  the  whole  country  round  Quebec,  might  in  some 
measure  counterbalance  the  above  evils.  But,  unless  Mrs.  Mathews's 
and  your  own  health  were  tolerably  good  at  the  time,  the  daily  and 
hourly  inconveniences  which  you  would  have  to  endure,  would,  in  my 
opinion,  render  an  expedition  to  the  Canadas  anything  but  desirable. 
The  heat,  while  we  were  in  Montreal,  was  intolerable — the  filth  into- 
lerable— the  flies  intolerable — the  bugs  intolerable — the  people  intole- 
rable— the  jargon  they  speak  intolerable.  I  lifted  up  my  hands  in 
thankfulness  when  I  set  foot  again  in  "  these  United  States."  The  only 
inn  existing  in  Montreal  was  burnt  down  three  years  ago,  and  every- 
thing you  ask  for  was  burnt  down  in  it.    Pray  remember  me  to  Mrs. 

*  Mrs.  Butler's  uncle. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  441 

Mathews.     I  am  glad  she  likes  Boston  :  I  am  very  fond  of  it.     I  have 
been  very  happy  there,  and  like  the  place  and  people  infinitely. 

I  am,  my  dear  sir,  very  truly  yours,         Eanny  Kemble. 

I  sign  thus  because  I  was  told  you  wish  to  have  my  unmarried  name. 
Trelawny  is  quite  recovered. 

On  the  29th  of  December  Mr.  Mathews  (unknown  to  me) 
addressed  a  private  letter  to  Charles  from  Boston,  in  which  the 
following  forcible  and  affecting  observations  on  his  own  state  of 
health  and  feelings  occur : — 

"  This  will  not  do.  I  must  come  back — I  am  blighted.  I  cannot 
work.  I  have  been  eleven  days  confined  here.  Siberian  weather  has 
set  in.  Thermometer  10  degrees — sometimes  more — below  zero,  and  I 
jumping  from  a  sick  room  to  a  stage,  surrounded  with  blasts  (not 
draughts)  of  wind.  A  rhinoceros  could  not  endure  it.  All  the  illness 
of  my  fitty-eight  years  of  life  added  up  is  not  equal  to  the  number  of 
days  I  have  been  ill  here.  Porty  days'  perfect  health  at  sea,  succeeded 
by  instantaneous  effects  of  miasma  on  landing.  Your  mother  the  exact 
reverse — sick  forty  days,  in  better  health  than  I  have  known  her  for 
years.  From  29th  September  I  have  acted  in  all  twenty-two  nights. 
Back  I  must  go,  and  directly,  if  I  am  not  dissuaded  from  fear  of  bad 
weather.  I  play  six  nights  more  at  New  York,  and  think  of  returning 
on  the  16th  of  February.  I  have  done  all  I  can  (say  to  D.)  to  pay  him. 
God  bless  you,  my  dear  fellow.. 

Your  affectionate  father,        C.  M. 


To  Charles  J.  Mathews,  JEsq. 

Jan.  4th,  1835.  Boston,  Massachusetts. 
My  deaeest  Charles, — I  hope  you  have  made  up  your  mind 
to  the  inevitable  result  of  our  premature  return  home.  To-morrow 
will  be  your  father's  last  theatrical  night  here  (his  benefit) ;  and  when 
he  has  done  his  entertainment  in  a  room,  to  enable  certain  scrupulous 
Christians  and  Unitarians,  who,  like  Mawworm,  think  it  "  a  sin  to  keep 
a  shop,"  to  patronize  him,  we  go  again  to  New  York,  where,  after  he 
has  played  six  nights,  unless  something  very  unexpected  offers,  and 
your  father's  health  improves,  we  positively  sail  for  Liverpool,  where, 
all  things  agreeing,  he  will  perform.  But,  as  hope  is  still  at  the  bottom 
of  my  Pandora's  box,  other  plans  may  be  formed,  and  strength  given 
for  their  execution.  Therefore  say  nothing  to  any  but  parties  concerned 
of  our  probable  return,  until  my  decisive  letter,  which  1  shall  write  from 
New  York,  as  soon  as  all  is  settled,  giving  you  notice  when  and  where 
to  join  us  on  our  arrival  in  England,  where  I  have  happiness  awaiting 
me  in  your  greeting,  my  beloved  Charles,  enough  to  repay  any  sacrifice 
past,  and  to  stimulate  me  to  bear  all  future  trials,  whatever  they 
may  be.    ■ 


442  THE  LIFE  AND  COERESPONDENCE  OF 

I  must  now  tell  you  that  I  have  been  more  happy  in  Boston  than  I 
have  felt  anywhere  since  I  parted  from  you.  Even  your  fcvther's  illness, 
&c.,  has  been  soothed  by  the  attentions  and  friendship  we  have  found 
in  this  place — I  especially.  A  dear  woman,  one  of  the  highest  grade 
here,  a  widow,  whom  I  believe  I  mentioned  to  you,  has  been  an  alFec- 
tionate  and  devoted  friend,  never  omitting  a  day  seeing  us  and  showing 
us  every  kindness.  She  has  introduced  us  to  her  family  and  numerous 
friends,  and  done  everything  that  she  possibly  could  to  render  us  happy, 
and  has  so  endeared  herself  to  me,  that  I  shall  suffer  a  severe  pang 
when  1  say  farewell  to  her.  Indeed  I  like  this  city  also  very  much. 
Boston  is  decidedly  the  England  of  America. 

Your  father  bids  me  tell  you  that  Fop  is  admired  everywhere,  and  by 
everybod3^  He  is  indeed  handsomer  and  cleverer  than  ever.  A  few 
days  ago  some  gentlemen  on  the  road  (strangers)  offered  to  "  exchange 
two  pointer  dogs  (animals  of  great  worth  here),  with  an  addition  of 
fifty  dollars,"  for  him  !  But  Fop,  whom  you  know  is  a  "  family  dog," 
was  inflexible,  and  the  strangers  drove  off,  convinced  that  he  would  not 
take  any  money  for  himself.  Questions  are  frequently  asked  about 
him,  such  as  "  where  he  was  raised  ?"  which  of  course  does  not  make 
him  think  little  of  himself.  A.  M. 

To  the  above  Mr.  Mathews  added  a  few  lines,  by  way  of  post- 
script, in  further  expression  of  his  feelings  and  situation  : — 

I  should  have  sent  lOOOZ.  but  for  this  calamitous  week.  *'  Destiny," 
— fate— fatality — call  it  what  you  like,  pursues  me.  I  cannot,  must 
not,  get  beyond  a  certain  point.  The  worst  description  of  ill  luck  over- 
whelms me.  Every  seat  was  taken  in  the  Boston  Theatre,  when  I 
totally  lost  my  voice :  nine  days  in  one  room.  On  my  recovery,  the 
winter  had  commenced.  I  cannot  describe  it  to  a  European.  You  have 
never  seen  anything  like  it :  twenty  degrees  below  zero  at  night — ten 
daytime  ;  houses  warmed  up  to  90 — cold  stage  at  night ;  no  chance  of 

a  partial  thaw  till  March.     Thank  God, cannot  reproach  me.     If  I 

was  not  in  his  debt,  I  would  not  endure  what  1  do  here.  C.  M. 

Notwithstanding  my  husband's  general  state  of  suffering,  and 
utter  inability  to  shake  off  his  depression,  he  was  able  for  a  few 
hours  to  make  the  most  gigantic  efforts  to  overcome  both.  On 
the  stage,  for  instance,  for  which  he  would  prepare  with  tearful 
eyes  and  painful  frame,  his  audience  never  felt  that  they  were 
extracting  amusement  from  a  sufferer.  Occasionally  he  would 
dine  out  with  a  very  kind  friend,  Mr.  Manners  (the  English 
Consul),  whom  we  had  known  many  years  before  in  England, 
and  others,  and  never  allowed  his  ill  health  to  be  guessed  at, 
farther  tlum  his  altered  looks  betrayed  it.  He  was  so  attached 
to  Mrs.  Eliot  and  her  children,  that  with  them  he  felt  at  home 
and  often  cheerful.  He  even  did  not  object  to  meet  parties  at 
her  house,  as  well  as  at  Mr.  Augfustus  Thorndike's,  to  whom  we 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  443 

were  indebted  for  many  valued  attentions.  At  these  parties  we 
became  acquainted  with  Dr.  Wainwright,  whom,  as  the  customs 
of  America  would  not  allow  a  churchman  to  visit  a  theatre, 
Mr.  Mathews  took  great  pleasure  in  entertaining  whenever 
they  met. 

The  preaching  of  Br.  Wainwright,  as  well  as  his  reading  of 
the  service,  was  most  impressive  and  beautiful.  His  harmonious 
voice,  perfect  English,  untainted  with  any  local  intonation  or 
vulgarism,  his  benign  countenance,  and  fine  mind  rendered  liim 
very  popular,  especially  with  Europeans ;  and  my  husband,  ill  as 
he  was,  never  omitted  to  attend  service  when  he  could  possibly 
go  out.  To  show  how  strong  was  his  will  to  rise  above  his 
complaint,  when  not  utterly  cast  down,  one  Sunday  he  had 
announced  that  it  would  be  impossible  for  him  to  go  out  on  that 
day ;  he  was  not,  he  said,  able  to  walk  to  church  (tlie  weatiier 
being  bright  and  dry,  no  carriage  had  been  prepared,  and  could 
not  then  be  had  in  time),  and  he  begged  Mrs.  Eliot  and  myself 
to  proceed  without  him. 

In  a  few  minutes  after  our  arrival,  to  our  great  surprise,  he 
entered  the  pew,  telling  us  afterwards  that,  considering  it  would 
be  his  last  opportunity  of  hearing  service  performed  by  Doctor 
Wainwright,  he  had,  notwithstanding  all  his  suffering  from 
lameness  and  want  of  breath,  managed  to  follow  us. 

It  happened  that  this  was  his  last  attendance  at  church  ! 
The  doctor's  sermon  turned  on  a  very  affecting  subject — the 
probability  that  a  reunion  with  those  we  most  loved  on  earth 
would  form  a  portion  of  the  joys  of  the  blessed  hereafter.  My 
husband  wept  continuously  throughout  the  sermon,  although  he 
seemed  unusually  tranquil  and  happy  the  rest  of  the  day. 

Wherever  he  went  (except  when  he  dined  out)  his  little  Fop 
was  his  perpetual  companion.  He  derived  the  greatest  solace 
from  his  presence  and  attachment,  which  was  as  remarkable  as 
his  intelligence  was  extraordinary.  When  Mr.  Mathews  went 
to  church,  Fop  walked  to  the  door  with  him,  and  was  sent  back 
with  the  servant  who  had  followed  to  take  care  of  him,  and  on 
our  quitting  church,  there  the  little  animal  was  sure  to  be  found, 
either  reconducted  by  the  said  servant,  or,  in  case  of  the  man 
being  behind  time  (of  which  this  creature  was  a  correct  calcu- 
lator). Fop  would  find  his  way  without  him,  and  appear  sitting 
at  the  porch  (not  attempting  to  enter)  when  the  service  was 
ended,  patiently  waiting  for  his  master. 

The  circumstance  of  this  little  creature  being  constantly  with 
him  caused  a  very  ridiculous  dilemma  and  a  scene  on  board  a 


444  THE  LIFE  AND   COKEESPONDENCE  OF 

ferry-boat  one   day,  wlien   going   over  to  the    opposite  shore, 
during  our  stay  in  New  York.     A  large  Glumdalka-hke  woman, 
attended  by  a  female  "  nigger,"  laid  sudden  and  vehement  claim 
to  poor  Fop  !    She  positively  charged  Mr.  Mathews  with  having 
stolen  him  from  her.     It  was  soon  pretty  evident  that  this  lady 
(whom,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  my  husband  discovered  to  be  English) 
had  appeared  before  the  American  Bar*  that  morning,  where  she 
had  been  found  guilty  of  "  stealing"  away  her  own  "  brains." 
In  fact,  she  was  tipsy,  the  only  word  I  dare  borrow  for  a  crime, 
so  monstrous  in  woman  as  to  have  no  name  of  its  own  provided 
in  our  language.     Well,  this  unfortunate  being  clamorously  con- 
tested my  husband's  right  to  the  little  creature,  whom  she  called 
by  the  name  of  some  ancient  hero  ;  and,  though  Fop  disdained 
to  "  answer"  to  it,  and  her  "  nigger"  assured  her  Missy  "  dat 
dis  dog,  not  dat  dog  " — in  other  words,  not  the  dog  lost — the 
besotted  woman  expressed  her  intention  of  taking  possession  of 
the  animal,  and  a&ked  who  dared  to  oppose  her  will  ?     For  a 
moment  American  valour  quailed  under  this  defiance ;   but  in 
the  next.  Justice  resumed  her  scales,  and  the  deportment  of  the 
lady,  the  evidence  of  her  black  attendant,  and,   above  all,  the 
shyness  of  her  alleged  favourite,  who  was  proof  against  all  her 
invitations  and  endearments,  refusing,  moreover,  to  acknowledge 
the  name  with  which  his  would-be  mistress  dignified  him,  availed 
to  invalidate  her  claim,  and  Fop  eventually  landed  at  Hoboken 
the  undoubted  property  of   "  his  master,"    while   the  enraged 
female    staggered    from   the  vessel    breathing   vengeance,   and 
honouring  my  poor  husband  with  many  epithets  not  mentionable 
"  to  ears  polite." 

*  The  "bar"  of  a  hotel,  or  steam-boat,  or  "  grocery,"  is  nothing  more  nor 
less  than  a  counter  covered  with  spirituous  liquors,  offering  at  once  a  tempta- 
tion and  cheap  opportunity  to  the  intemperately  inclined. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  445 


CHAPTER  XLIII. 

Letters  from  Mrs.  Mathews  to  Mr.  C.  J.  Mathews  ;  Mr.  Mathews's  appearance 
at  New  York;  anticipations  of  return  home;  renovation  of  Mr.  Mathews's 
health;  a  "cold  snap;"  interior  of  an  American  house — Letter  from  Mr. 
Mathews  to  the  Rev.  Thomas  Speidell — Mr.  Mathews's  last  appearance  in 
New  York  —  Embarkation  for  England  —  Letter  to  Mr.  C.  J.  Mathews; 
arrival  at  Liverpool ;  the  homeward  voyage ;  sudden  and  alarming  illness  of 
Mr.  Mathews  ;  a  violent  gale. 

To  C.  J.  Mathews,  Esq. 

New  York,  Feb.  7th,  1835. 
I  HAVE  the  pleasure  of  informing  you  that  your  father's  health,  and 
spirits  also,  are  renovated  in  a  great  degree  within  the  last  week.  I 
mentioned  to  you  that  he  did  not  feel  strong  enough  for  his  "  At  Home," 
on  his  return  to  New  York,  and,  therefore,  he  was  compelled  to  act  in 
the  drama ;  and  it  is  to  be  regretted  (too  late)  that  he  did  not  do  this 
first,  as  well  as  last ;  for,  contrary  to  all  calculations,  the  attraction  is 
such,  that  a  night  or  so  has  been  solicited  in  addition  to  the  stipulated 
number ;  and,  spite  of  the  frost  and  snow,  he  has  played  in  *'  Married 
Life,"  *  three  successive  nights,  to  great  houses,  and  he  performs  two 
nights  next  week,  and  finishes  in  the  same  character  on  Wednesday 
next,  his  benefit. 

I  went  to  see  him  last  Wednesday,  and  I  never  anywhere  heard  a 
more  joyous  and  delighted  audience.  All  this  is  gratifying,  for  he  will 
close  as  brilliantly  at  New  York  as  he  began.  "  My  Wife's  Mother" 
would  have  been  an  additional  hit,  but  it  .is  now  too  late. 

Since  my  last  letter  we  have  had  what  is  called  by  the  Americans  "a  cold 
snap !"  again, — such  rain,  thunder,  lightning,  snow,  wind,  and  frost ! ! ! 
In  order  to  be  in  some  measure  freed  from  taps  at  the  door  and  intru- 
sive visitors,  we  have,  with  great  interest,  procured  a  lodging  in  the 
house  of  an  English  family,  very  well  educated,  intelligent,  and  kind 
persons,  who  do  all  their  restricted  means  will  admit  of  to  make  us 
comfortable ;  giving  us  a  sitting-room  to  ourselves,  and  our  breakfasts, 
teas,  and  suppers  (when  we  want  any)  there,  but  we  dine  with  them. 
So  here  we  are  quiet  at  least,  and  have  the  privilege  sometimes  of  deny- 
ing ourselves  to  bores.  But  when  I  tell  you  that  it  is  a  corner-house, 
with  one  window  looking  upon  the  river  (of  course  a  really  delightful 

•  The  character  of  Coddle. 


446  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

view,  and  as  such  a  great  comfort  to  3'our  dear  father),  two  other  win- 
dows round  the  corner  looking  into  the  street — one  door  opening  on  to 
the  staircase,  another  into  the  next  room,  and  no  curtains — you  may 
"  guess"  pretty  well  how  "  Eolus,  Boreas,  and  all  the  gentle  breezes," 
are  excluded  !  Next,  figure  to  yourself  (having  placed  these  windows 
and  doors,  and  a  fireplace,  at  equal  distances  all  round  a  room  not  larger 
than  my  boudoir  at  the  cottage)  white-washed  walls,  with  a  great 
number  of  superannilated  nails,  that  have  once  "  done  the  state  some 
service,"  but  now,  from  the  absence  of  pictures,  rendered  only  fit  to 
point  out  Avhat  has  been.  Then  carry  your  eye  to  the  pier  between  the 
twin -windows,  exhibiting  large  gaps  in  the  wall  torn  away  by  the 
absent  mirror,  reluctant  of  removal,  which  once  decorated  the  space, 
and  now  possibly  transplanted  to  gayer  scenes ;  then  observe  a  thin 
drugget,  meanly  assuming  the  name  and  character  of  a  carpet.  A 
wooden  "  mantel,"  ornamented  with  a  pair  of  curling-irons,  left  there 
by  the  hair-dresser,  and  employed  by  your  father  to  "  fix"  coals  upon 
the  fire  (no  tongs  in  the  house) ;  a  corkscrew  (our  own  purchase) ;  a 
parcel  of  used  pens;  sundry  snuff-canisters;  a  stone  bottle,  with 
*'  English  ink ;"  a  small  glass  ink-holder ;  a  wine-glass  of  "  yesterday's" 
use  (overlooked  by  the  young  Irish  lady,  who  does  us  the  honour  of  help- 
ing us,  when  she  "  fixed"  the  room  in  the  morning),  blushing  with 
shame  (or  perhaps  claret)  at  its  improper  location.  Then  behold  six 
reed-bottomed,  ragged,  ricketj'-  chairs ;  a  little  pier-table,  covered  with 
books  and  newspapers  from  England ;  and  a  square  one,  upon  which  I 
row  write,  and  you  have  the  complete  inventory  of  our  drawing-room 
("  parlour"),  which  would  puzzle  Mr.  George  Eobins  himself  to  print 
with  any  effect. 

The  bedroom  adjoining  is  in  perfect  harmony  with  this  apartment. 
Last  night  the  drapery,  which  I  insisted  upon  having  put  up  for  my 
peculiar  notions  of  comfort,  and  which  was  nailed  to  the  ceiling  by  a 
piece  (a  bit)  of  packthread,  from  which  depended  a  rod  of  wood  resem- 
bling a  stage  truncheon  which  held  up  the  poor  thin,  unlined,  scant 
curtain — all  fell  upon  my  devoted  head,  and  at  one  fell  swoop,  covered 
me  with  mortar,  nails,  dust,  and  crackling  calico.  Such  a  fright !  I 
thought  the  new  world  was  at  an  end!  Well,  with  all  these  con- 
veniences and  luxuries  we  are  obliged  to  be  satisfied,  and  for  all  these 
*'  appliances  and  means  to  boot"  of  enjoyment,  we  pay  about  as  much 
as  we  should  for  rooms  at  the  Clarendon !  But  I  must  reserve  some- 
thing for  our  evenings  at  home,  and  will  not  surfeit  you  with  sweets, 
and  our  advantages  over  you,  but  gradually  break  them  to  you  on  our 
return,  when  they  will  serve  for  sweet  discourses  lovingly  sustained. 

Before  I  proceed,  let  me  premise  that  eye  and  pen  at  this  time 
combine  to  render  my  writing  rather  obscure,  and  my  English  ink  is 
rather  murky. 

What  your  father  means  to  do  at  Liverpool,  before  we  proceed  to 
London,  I  do  not  know,  and  must  not  inquire  until  we  are  there  ;  for, 
though  I  assure  you  he  is  much  better  than  he  was,  he  is  yet  far  from 
re-established  in  health,  and  I  am  obliged  to  use  great  caution  not  to 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  44-7 

agitate  him.  The  medical  men  and  others  all  believe  that  a  reaction 
will  take  place  when  he  gets  to  Engkmd,  and  that  he  will  be  as  well  as 
ever. 

Still  I  shall  have  regrets  when  I  leave  this  country ;  the  more  than 
kind  Simpsons,  and  my  Boston  friends  must  be  ever  dear  to  me.  In 
Mrs.  Eliot  I  leave  a  sister;  and,  the  idea  of  parting,  as  it  must  be,  for 
ever,  is  painful  indeed.  If  you  knew  how  amiable  and  how  superior 
she  is,  you  would  allow  that  I  have  reason  to  be  proud  of  her  friend- 
ship, as  I  am  affectionately  attached  to  her. 

My  spirits  are  elated  at  the  prospect  of  being  again  united  to  you, 
my  beloved  Charles ;  difficulties  are  to  be  re-encountered,  but  I  shall 
again  be  near  you ;  and  your  poor  father's  health  will  be  restored  by  the 
voyage.  At  all  events  we  shall  feel  vexations  and  care  lighter  in 
England,  after  what  we  have  encountered  elsewhere ;  and,  when  you 
are  aware  of  the  extent  of  our  sufferings,  you  will  rejoice  to  have  us  back 
again,  under  any  circumstances.  I  fear  to  hear  of  the  embarrassment 
thrown  upon  you,  as  to  the  writing  for  the  entertainment  at  such  short 
notice. 

Oh  !  for  an  evening  of  positive  privacy !  a  room  sometimes  to  myself; 
the  power  to  pursue  any  rational  plan  of  passing  time  without  the  fear 
of  interruption  !  Oh,  the  first  evening  that  I  find  myself  sitting  with 
you  and  your  father,  doors  and  windows  closed,  in  a  chair  without  a 
ro(;ker,  and  a  window  curtain  at  my  back  ! 

God  bless  you,  my  beloved  Charles !  Pray  for  us,  that  my  best  anti« 
cipations  may  be  realized. 

A.M. 


New  York,  Feb.  15,  1835. 

My  Dearest  Chaeles, — If  the  "tide  serves,  and  the  wind's  fair," 
we  quit  this  country  to-morrow  morning ;  and  the  enclosed  is  a  small 
addenda  to  the  work  done  here, — more  properly,  a  bill  of  exchange  for 
one  hundred  and  fifty  pounds,  in  consequence  of  a  great  house  on  your 
father's  benefit  night,  when  he  and  the  New  Yorkers  parted  more  than 
in  common  cordiality  with  each  other,  and  they  huzzaed  him,  all  the 
audience  standing  up.  He  is  much  better  in  health ;  but  may  be,  and 
I  trust  will  be,  still  better  after  his  voyage. 

Now,  if  the  packet  which  carries  the  letters,  and  quits  this  port  at 
the  same  time  that  the  "  ship  Columbus*  (by  which  we  sail)  departs, 
— if,  I  say,  by  dint  of  galloping,  said  packet  should  take  an  unfair 
advantage,  it  may  arrive  in  England  before  us.  Your  father,  therefore, 
on  the  chance  sends  this  by  it,  enclosing  the  bill  of  exchange  (which 
send  immediately  to  Cockburu's),  and  a  piece  of  newspaper,  containing 
an  account  of  the  last  night. 

It  is  agreed  between  your  father  and  myself  that  I  shall  proceed  home 
without  him  from  Liverpool  ;*  so  remember,  if  I  am  well  enough,  I 

•  This  plan  was  in  anticipation  of  Mr.  Mathews  being  well  enough  to  accept 
an  engagement  at  Liverpool  to  perform. 


448  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

shall  proceed  forthwith  to  home,  dear  home !  Let  as  much  be  got  in 
readiness  as  possible.  What  a  glorious  feeling  will  be  the  first  actual 
"  Not  at  home"  that  I  shall  have  occasion  to  give ! 

I  am  up  to  my  ears  literally, — packing  and  paying,  with  a  room  full 
of  successive  callers.  I  hear  nothing  but  the  words,  "  Columbus" — 
"  delivery  of  letters," — "  east  wind," — and  dollars.  So  can  no  more 
than  add  my  blessing,  and  a  prayer  that  we  may  meet  again  in  safety. 
My  beloved  Charles,  may  Heaven  grant  that  I  may  find  you  well ! 

Your  ever  affectionate  mother,  A.  M. 

And  father,  C.  M. 


To  the  Rev.  Thomas  Speidell. 

New  York,  January  30th,  1835. 

My  deae  Speidell, — Though  I  believe  you  are  not  one  of  those 
friends  who  exacted  from  me  a  promise  to  write  from  the  dis-nmtedi 
States,  yet  I  cannot  allow  you  to  reproach  me  on  my  return  for  my 
silence ;  nor  can  I  allow  my  own  conscience  to  be  burthened  with  the 
reproach  of  having  neglected  one  of  my  kindest  and  most  hospitable 
friends.  Therefore  be  satisfied, — take  the  will  for  the  deed, — and  be 
assured  that  I  have  not  selected  you  for  the  object  of  indifference  on 
my  part.  I  have  constantly  endured  pangs  on  your  account,  and  re- 
proaches from  Mrs.  Mathews ;  but  I  hope  to  draw  upon  your  appro- 
bation, after  all  this  preface,  by  telling  you  that  you  will  be  one  of 
four  who  alone  have  heard  from  me.  The  fact  is,  that  I  have  been  ill, 
literally  every  day  since  October  the  first ;  and  my  wife  never  urged  me 
to  write  during  the  whole  of  that  period  that  I  did  not  look  at  her  as 
if  she  had  proposed  the  most  preposterous  undertaking. 

After  forty  days  of  uninterrupted  health  and,  boyish  spirits,  I  was 
attacked  on  my  landing  by  concealed  riflemen,  or  bush-fighters,  under 
the  name  of  mal-aria,  or  miasma,  or  something  to  be  aimed  at  me  like 
the  brave  President  behind  the  cotton-bags,  without  a  chance  of  my 
knowing  my  enemy.  When  I  tell  you  that  I  have  since  that  date  acted 
but  thirty  nights,  you  may  suppose  how  my  speculation,  in  a  mercantile 
point  of  view,  has  failed,  and  the  mortification  is  infinitely  greater  than 
a  real  failure — I  mean  neglect  of  the  public — for  to  sickness  alone  can 
I  attribute  my  disappointment.  I  am  now  playing  a  farewell  engage- 
ment of  six  nights,  and  then  I  am  resolved  to  return. 

It  is  my  intention  to  leave  on  the  16th  of  February,  in  the  Columbus, 
for  Liverpool.  Mrs.  Mathews,  thank  God !  has  supported  me  by 
having  enjoyed  excellent  health  from  the  first  day  of  her  landing,  after 
fort}'-  days  of  sickness.  But  for  her,  I  believe  I  must  have  sunk.  My 
spirits  have  been  so  deplorably  depressed,  that,  but  for  her  cheerfulness, 
arising  from  health,  my  burthen  would  have  been  doubled.  We  have 
had  the  good  fortune,  also,  to  encounter  the  severest  winter  since  1787, 
disputes  only  arising  as  to  the  state  of  freezing — whether  the  ther- 
mometer was  thirty  or  twenty  only  below  zero — or  Nero,  as  the 


CHAELES  MATHEWS.  449 

niggers  say.     This  climate  is  only  fit  for  butterflies  in  summer,  and 
wolves  and  bears  in  winter. 

One  cause  of  my  depression  has  been  the  remorse  I  have  endured 
from  having  compelled  Fop  to  accompany  me.  He  is,  however, 
remarkably  well,  and  has  been  a  great  comfort  to  me.  0,  dear  Speidell, 
you  will  find  me  a  converted  man.  This  visit  has  destroyed  all  the 
pleasing  recollections  of  the  country.  There  are  a  few  most  pleasing 
and  intelligent  persons  ;  but  there  are  a  hundred  thousand  Irish  tyrants 
at  least,  who,  from  a  hackney  coach  upwards,  drive  you  as  they  please. 
I  congratulate  you  on  the  return  of  the  Tories.  I  wish  you  could  send 
all  the  Whigs  here.  I  should  like  no  better  punishment  than  their  being 
compelled  to  visit  America  in  search  of  liberty. 

Ever  sincerely  yours,        C.  Mathews. 

I  here  introduce  the  bill  of  his  last  appearance  in  public  : — 

Farewell  JBeneJlt  of  Mr.  Matheios  at  New  Yorh. 
This  evening,  February  11th,  1835,  will  be  performed  the  comedy  of 

MARRIED  lIfE. 

Mr.  SuTmuel  Coddle, — Mr.  Mathews. 
Mr.  Lionel  Lynx, — Mr.  Mason. 
Mrs.  Lionel  Lynx, — Mrs.  Chapman. 
Mrs.  Samuel  Coddle, — Mrs.  Wheatley. 

In  the  course  of  the  evening,  Mr.  Mathews  will  sing  the  Comic 
Songs  of 

The  Humours  of  a  Country  Fair,  and  Street  Melodies  {a  medley), 
including  Welsh,  French,  Scotch,  Irish,  African,  Italian,  Swiss, 
and  English  airs,  with  embellishments. 

After  which,  an  Entertainment  by  Mr.  Mathews,  called 
THE  LONE  HOUSE. 

Andrew  Steward,  butler  and  leader, — Mr.  Mathews. 
Bechamel,  a  French  valet, — Mr.  Mathews. 
Frizwaffer,  a  German  cook, — Mr.  Mathews. 
Cutbush,  a  gardener, — Mr.  Mathews. 
Captain  Grapnell,  a  naval  officer, — Mr.  Mathews. 

Doors  open  at  a  quarter  before  six  o'clock ;  performance  commences 
at  a  quarter  before  seven. 

So  near  a  prospect  of  return  to  England  had  the  effect  upon 
Mr.  Mathews's  spirits  as  almost  to  give  an  appearance  of  amended 
health  ;  and  so  it  ever  was  with  him.  We  dined  with  our  hos- 
pitable friends,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Simpson,  who  had  kindly  collected 
on  this  occasion  a  knot  of  my  husband's  favourites  (their 
friends),  and  amongst  them   Doctor   Holland,  an  intellectual 


450  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

and  refined  gentleman  in  any  country,  Mr.  Placide,  an  Ame- 
rican actor  of  great  talent ;  and  Mr.  Mason,  nephew  to  Mr. 
Charles  Kemble. 

On  this  day  my  husband's  warmest  and  most  exuberant  feelings 
arose  to  make  the  meeting  most  cheerful  and  delightful,  and  his 
partiality  for  his  excellent  host  and  hostess  led  him  to  exert  him- 
self in  a  manner  that  I  now  reflect  upon  with  wonder.  We  ex- 
pected to  sail  on  the  following  day,  but  were  detained  by  weather. 
On  the  morning  of  the  18th,  when  we  joined  the  ship,  his  spirits 
again  mounted.  A  number  of  friends,  gentlemen  of  the  theatre 
and  others,  came  on  board  to  take  leave  of  him,  and  several 
accompanied  us  as  far  as  the  pilot  went.  During  the  whole  of 
their  stay,  the  deck  rung  with  his  sprightly  sallies — he  was  all 
energy  and  hilarity,  and,  as  far  as  his  voice  could  follow  the  pilot's 
vessel  which  took  his  laughing  friends  away,  he  continued  to 
amuse  them  with  his  drolleries  and  overflowing  spirits. 

My  next  letter  to  Charks  will  give  particulars  of  our  voyage. 

-     To  Charles  J.  MatJiews,  Esq. 

Waterloo  Hotel,  Liverpool,  March  11,  1835. 

My  dearest  Charles, — We  arrived  here  late  yesterday  evening, 
Heaven  be  praised !  alter  a  voyage  of  nineteen  days,  having  sailed  from 
New  York  on  the  18th  of  February.  The  earlier  part  of  our  passage 
was  warm*  and  prosperous,  the  wind  favourable,  and  our  progress 
surprisingly  rapid;  a  palace  of  a  ship  (a  ship,  mind),  an  accomplished 
seaman  lor  our  captain,  and  every  accommodation,  I  verily  believe,  that 
can  be  possibly  given  under  this  dreadful  species  of  imprisonment  and 
torture.  Only  three  passengers  besides  ourselves — myself  the  only  lady 
on  board ;  for  females  seldom  sail  at  this  period  of  the  year,  it  seems  ; 
nor  is  there  at  any  time  a  fire  to  be  had  in  the  ladies'  cabin,  so  unusual 
and  unexpected  are  female  passengers  after  the  warm  season.  I 
remained  during  the  first  ten  days  (the  time  of  my  extreme  suffering) 
in  the  apartment  appropriated  to  me,  wrapped  up  in  cloaks,  and  occa- 
sionally a  small  feet-warmer  to  keep  mine  in  vital  warmth,  only  one 
«tove  being  fitted  up,  and  that  a  small  one,  inadequate  to  the  comfort 
of  even  the  few  gentlemen  whose  cabin  it  was  in.  But  this  was  unim- 
portant while  the  wind  and  weather  continued  fair. 

Your  father  was  unwell  and  restless ;  but  he  eat  and  drank  and  "got 
along"  as  well  as  I  could  hope  after  his  severe  illness  and  general 
indisposition  since  we  landed  in  America.  His  cough  continued,  it  is 
true ;  but  he  was  not  worse  than  he  had  been  for  some  time.  I  had 
been  w^ell  enough  to  dine  two  or  three  days  with  the  gentlemen,  and 
was  recovering  a  little  of  my  exhausted  strength,  when  one  da^?  (the 


*  For  the  time  of  year,  and  compared  with  the  frost  we  left  behind  us 
New  York. 


s  at  I 

m 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  451 

3rd  of  March)  your  father's  absence  after  dinner  was  noticed,  and  he 
was  supposed  to  have  gone  on  deck ;  but  a  dreadful  groan  I'rom  the 
ladies'  cabin  alarmed  us  all,  and  a  simultaneous  rush  discovered  to  us 
your  poor  father  apparently  in  the  agonies  of  death  :  his  face  so  drawn 
in  and  pale,  that  it  was  hardly  possible  to  conceive  such  a  change  in  so 
few  minutes — his  hands  clenched,  and  his  whole  frame  distorted  with 
agony.  He  managed  to  make  me  understand  that  he  had  spasms  in 
his  chest.  One  of  the  gentlemen,  a  Major  Young,  humanely  rubbed 
hira  violently,  every  one  was  alike  kind  and  anxious,  and  ultimately 
successful  in  restoring  him,  though  in  a  dreadfully  weakened  state,  tQ 
comparative  easfe.  The  captain  medicined  him  as  well  as  his  small  skill 
allowed,  and  he  became  partially  well  by  night.  As  for  me,  it  will 
sufficiently  convey  to  you  an  idea  of  my  despair  and  horror,  when  I 
tell  you  that  for  some  minutes  the  captain  and  the  other  gentlemen 
believed  your  father  dead,  in  which  belief  I  joined. 

Imagine  my  misery,  for  I  cannot  represent  it  by  words ;  I  was  up 
the  two  following  nights  in  attendance  upon  him,  in  despite  of  my  own 
ailings  (brought  back  by  this  fright),  and  the  entreaties  of  those  kind 
men,  that  I  would  entrust  the  poor  sufferer  to  their  care,  and  who 
would  partially  assist.  The  captain  came  several  times  at  night  to  the 
berth,  and  was  most  affectionately  attentive,  as  indeed  he  had  been  from 
the  moment  we  entered  his  ship.  Thus,  with  constant  care  and 
watching,  your  father  returned  to  something  more  like  ease  than  we 
expected  he  could,  until  better  advice  could  be  had. 

Unfortunately,  the  wind  and  weather  changed,  and  then  succeeded  to 
our  heretofore  prosperous  progress,  the  most  alarming  and  boisterous 
gales  of  wind  that  can  be  imagined.  Friday  and  Saturday  the  captain 
and  crew  (all  in  the  most  unremitting  state  of  exertion)  knew  not 
where  we  were, — the  foresail  torn  all  to  ribbons  before  it  could  be 
taken  down.  The  whole  ship  was  made  bare,  and  the  horrors  of  those 
two  days  and  nights  can  never  leave  my  memory.  About  Sunday  these 
alarming  gales  subsided,  when  the  wind  altogether  forsook,  or  if  not, 
became  adverse  to  us.  I  was  perforce,  after  my  two  nights'  watching 
of  your  father,  confined  again  by  illness  to  my  berth  for  two  days  and 
nights,  packed  up  as  the  means  of  preserving  me  from  falling  out  of  it 
at  every  motion  of  the  ship,  during  which  your  poor  father,  sufferer  as 
he  was,  insisted  upon  watching  me,  having  his  mattress  placed  on  the 
ground  by  my  side. 

We  had  very  bad  storms  in  the  Canada,  as  we  thought :  they  were 
ripples  on  the  sea  compared  to  this ;  and  the  captain  has  since  confessed, 
"  though  he  had  been  a  sailor  from  the  time  that  he  was  no  taller  than 
a  musquito,  and  out  in  all  sorts  of  weather,  he  never  encountered  so 
serious  a  gale  as  this,  and  that  he  should  have  despaired  had  he  not 
relied  on  the  soundness  of  his  ship."  He  added  that  he  would  not 
have  been  in  the  Canada  under  such  a  trial  for  the  bribe  of  all  it 
contained.  I  tell  you  thus  much,  my  dearest  Charles,  that  our  present 
safety  may  make  you  more  than  commonly  happy,  for  it  has  been 
decidedly  in  peril. 

G  g2 


452  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

I  have  occupied  more  of  my  space  in  this  letter  than  I  ought ;  for  I 
have  still  something  to  add  as  to  the  future.  Your  father  has  had  a 
night  of  much  suffering  :  no  sleep — nor  I  either,  as  you  can  suppose. 
He  will  not  allow  of  a  physician  being  sent  for  to-day,  but  has  had 
Dr.  Eattray's  prescription  made  up,  which  relieved  him  when  so  very 
ill  at  Mr.  Speidell's  in  order  to  try  its  present  effect  first.  His  re- 
appearance in  an  "  At  Home"  this  season  in  London  is  not  probable,  even 
were  he  prepared ;  and  it  is  more  than  doubtful  whether,  ill  as  he  is,  he 
could  study  had  he  the  materials  ready  :  all  is,  therefore,  for  a  day  or 
two  unsettled.  He  is  anxious  for  one  reason  for  my  return  home ;  but, 
of  course,  I  cannot — will  not  leave  him  here  alone,  unless  he  improves 
in  a  day  or  so,  which  may  be  likely  from  his  present  quiet  and  comfort, 
and  the  change  of  climate:  in  that  case  I  must  travel  alone.  Prepare 
for  me,  therefore,  my  beloved  Charles,  as  I  may  only  give  you  a  few 
hours'  notice  of  my  appearance.  Let  there  be  as  little  to  do  after  my 
arrival  as  possible ;  for  I  am  wearied  with  noise  and  excitement,  and 
pine  for  a  little  repose, 

I  have  performed  a  painful  pilgrimage :  may  it  be  received  in  part 
atonement  for  my  sins !  You  will  find  that  I  have  pursued  it  with  all 
possible  constancy  and  patience.  My  progress  has  not  been  uncheered, 
for  I  have  found  friends  and  comforters  even  in  the  barrenness  of  the 
land.  Selfishly,  I  must  own  that  I  have  met  with  a  succession  of  kind- 
nesses from  the  moment  I  entered  the  Canada,  which  have  continued 
without  intermission  up  to  the  moment  of  my  return ;  such  interest  as 
places  my  oldest  friends,  in  a  comparative  point  of  view,  far  inferior  to 
strangers.  Were  I  in  love  with  vanity,  I  should  not  wish  to  return  to 
the  cold  hearts  and  hollow  professions  of  the  "  old  world."  Nevertheless, 
I  am  rejoiced  at  turning  my  back  upon  the  "  new  world"  for  general 
reasons,  and  particularly  as  it  has  swallowed  up  so  much  of  your  poor 
father's  health. 

Let  not  these  remarks  depress  you,  for  I  am  not  further  damped  than 
concerns  your  father's  health,  of  which  I  still  trust  to  the  restoration  in 
time.  I  shall  write  again  as  soon  as  I  have  anything  fresh  to  say — that 
is,  when  your  father  is  better  or  worse,  the  latter  of  which  Heaven 
forbid !  He  joins  with  me  in  a  fervent  blessing  to  you,  my  beloved 
Charles. 

Your  affectionate  mother,        Anne  Mathews. 

P.S. — Write  by  return,  addressed  to  your  father  here,  because,  if  I  am 
gone,  he  will  like  to  have  a  line  from  you,  and  if  I  am  not,  it  will  be  a 
comfort  to  me.  Suspend  your  brain  labour  until  you  get  another  des- 
patch from  me,  and  rest  your  imagination  for  a  day  or  two.  Tell  Mr. 
Yates  of  the  chance  against  an  "  At  Home"  this  year  without  delay,  and 
our  arrival  here,  but  do  not  own  when  I  intend  to  arrive  in  London  to 
any  one  but  Sophia,  and  beg  her  to  be  secret,  for  I  cannot  be  broken  in 
upon  at  first.  Read  her  this  letter  with  my  kindest  love.  To  all  who 
mention  our  landing,  say  we  are  detained  at  Liverpool  by  your  father's 
illness  for  an  indefinite  period. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  453 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 

Mr.  Mathews's  anxiety  as  to  his  affairs — The  excellence  of  his  character — 
Letters  to  Mrs.  Mathews :  state  of  Mr.  Mathews's  health,  and  treatment  of 
his  medical  attendants — Mr.  Winstanley's  account  of  the  illness  of  Mr. 
Mathews — Letters  to  Mrs.  Mathews:  improvement  in  the  health  of  Mr. 
Mathews  ;  his  endeavour  to  mingle  jest  with  pain  ;  preparations  for  removal 
to  Crick  ;  the  journey  thither — Application  from  the  Committee  of  the 
Theatrical  Fund — Mr.  Mathews's  reply— Letters  to  Mrs.  Mathews:  De- 
spondency of  Mr.  Mathews — Letter  to  Mr.  Gyles. 

Business  of  great  importance  required  immediate  and  personal 
attention  in  London.  Mr.  Mathews  fretted  about  it,  and  at  last 
conjured  me  to  go  to  town,  and  set  his  mind  more  at  ease  by 
communicating  with  him  upon  its  progress,  declaring  that  it 
caused  some  part  of  his  illness  not  to  have  me  transacting  an 
affair  of  such  vital  importance  to  the  future.  Alas !  he  was 
then  morbidly  sensitive  about  money  matters ;  and,  for  the  first 
time  in  his  life,  considered  them  in  everything.  Charles  was 
miserable  at  not  being  allowed  to  join  us  at  Liverpool.  His 
father  would  not  hear  of  "  the  expense."  In  short,  the  remnant 
of  his  property,  the  Adelphi  Theatre,  caused  him  the  most 
intense  anxiety.  He  often  reverted  to  it,  and,  as  if  in  apology 
to  me,  deplored  that  he  had  no  more  to  leave  me  than  I  could 
live  respectably  upon,  and  that  when  I  might  most  require  it,  I 
must  necessarily  resign  a  carriage,  to  which  I  had  been  so  manv 
years  accustomed.  To  preserve  this  Httle  freehold  property 
entire  occupied  his  thoughts  day  and  night.  This  in  a  year  or 
two  he  calculated  would  pay  off  what,  in  one  of  his  calamitous 
failures,  he  had  borrowed  on  interest,  and  thus  would  be  left 
unincumbered. 

That  he  was  allowed  to  indulge  in  this  comfortable  fallacy 
throughout  his  illness,  is  the  most  consoling  reflection  I  have  to 
reconcile  me  to  his  death.  Troubled,  indeed,  would  have  been 
his  last  days,  had  the  crisis  arrived  some  months  earlier,  which 
for  the  time  deteriorated  the  property  upon  which  he  depended 


454  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONDENCE   OF 

so  entirely  for  my  future  support  ;*  I  am  gratefully  sensible  of' 
the  mercy  which  concealed  this  from  him,  whose  whole  life  was 
one  continuous  care  to  preserve  those  he  loved  from  suffering. 
Few  better  merited  the  prosperity  he  met  with,  and  few  misused 
the  advantages  of  fortune  so  innocently.  His  heart  was  without 
guile,  his  character  untainted  with  a  shade  even  of  dishonour. 
His  failing  was  from  not  having  studied  the  world's  craft,  by 
which  want  of  knowledge  he  was  continually  open  to  the  specious 
and  false,  for  he  was  trusting  and  benevolent  in  his  nature,  a 
benefactor  without  ostentation,  a  friend  witliout  reserve.  His 
tender  consideration,  his  unvarying  affection  for  his  family,  his 
meekness  and  simplicity  in  prosperity,  his  constancy  in  adversity, 
his  moral  and  religious  feehngs,  of  the  sincerity  of  which  his  life 
was  a  practical  illustration — his  conscientious  fulfilment  of  all  he 
professed,  his  patient  endurance  of  wrongs,  his  submissive  resig- 
nation to  inflictions,  were  admirable. 

Writing  as  I  do,  after  more  than  two  years'  reflection,t  and 
constantly  dwelling  upon  his  character,  I  can  appeal  to  Heaven 
to  witness  my  sincere  conviction  that  I  have  been  unable  to 
detect  in  it  one  serious  blemish.  He  had  acknowledged  failings 
of  temper,  deplored  more  by  himself  than  any  other,  but  they 
were  transient  in  their  effects,  and,  as  it  has  proved,  as  much  the 
result  of  bodily  infirmity  as  of  natural  sensitiveness.  On  looking 
back,  I  can  even  remember  these  ebullitions  of  a  moment  as 
virtues,  knowing,  from  the  disclosures  after  his  death,  the  suf- 
ferings he  concealed  under  the  imputation  of  a  fault}^  temper. 
Let  those  who  w^ere  fond  of  commenting  upon  his  infirmity  re- 
member his  countless  excellences,  which,  while  I  dwell  upon 
them,  teach  me  to  thank  God  who  made  him  without  other  alloy 
to  his  great  talents,  and  left  me  without  one  fear  as  to  the  per- 
fection of  his  future  happiness.  He  died  without  earthly  riches, 
it  is  true,  but  he  laid  up  treasures  in  Heaven  which  will  never 
decrease ;  and  these  thoughts  are  too  precious  not  to  make  me 
satisfied  with  the  result  of  his  good  intentions.  Had  he  left  me 
miUions,  acquired  by  hard  accumulation,  or  snatched  away  from 
his  debtors  in  the  midst  of  their  misfortunes — had  he  selfishly 

*  The  cause  of  this  sudden  change  from  success  to  failure  in  the  Adelphi 
Theatre  (and  which  lasted  only  with  the  cause)  was  the  unprecedented  arrange- 
ment at  Covent-Garden  Theatre,  which  suddenly  reduced  its  price  of  admission 
to  the  rate  of  the  minor  theatres,  thus  giving  the  Adelphi  audience  the  novel 
advantage  of  entering  a  theatre  to  which  they  had  never  before  been  able  to 
afford  admission.  Though  this  eff"ect  lasted  but  a  brief  period,  it  proved  too 
long  to  enable  us  to  support  the  chance  of  continued  loss. 

f- These  pages  were,  written  in  the  autumn  of  1837. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  455 

neglected  the  needy,  or  proved  harsh  to  the  erring,  I  should 
have  been  less  happy  than  I  now  am  in  the  consciousness  of  his 
deservings  and  his  extensive  Christian  charity. 

Of  all  the  legacies  the  dying  leave, 
Remembrance  of  their  virtues  is  the  best. 

But  I  have  suffered  my  feelings  to  run  away  with  my  pen.  I 
was  compelled  at  length  to  obey  my  husband's  earnest  desire  that 
I  would  set  off  for  town,  and  as  no  very  material  change  had 
appeared  from  the  time  of  our  arrival  at  Liverpool,  I  assented, 
leaving  him  to  the  watchfulness  of  several  attentive  and  attached 
friends,  upon  whose  care  I  had  entire  reliance.  I  carried  with 
me,  however,  a  heavy  heart,  and  at  the  moment  of  parting,  he 
who  had  almost  insisted  upon  the  act,  sunk  upon  my  shoulder 
into  a  convulsive  expression  of  feeling.  I  begged  still  to  stay, 
but  in  spite  of  his  tears  and  sobs,  he  persisted  in  the  necessity  of 
my  departure,  and  that  he  should  feel  better  in  consequence  of 
knowing  that  the  business  he  was  anxious  about  was  regulated 
by  my  attention  to  it.  He  would  have  sent  his  servant  with 
me,  but  this  I  positively  forbade,  and  under  these  distressing 
circumstances  I  proceeded  alone  to  London. 

The  succeeding  correspondence  will  describe  all  that  followed 
my  departure,  when  the  dear  invalid  was  all  anxiety  to  proceed 
to  his  old  friend  and  schoolfellow,  the  Rev.  Thomas  Speidell's 
rectory,  to  whom  he  had  written  before  I  left  Liverpool  to 
apprize  him  of  his  wish. 

The  first  letter  to  me  was  begun  by  himself,  but  finished  by  a 
friend. 

To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Liverpool,  Saturday,  March  21st,  1835. 

My  deaeest  Nancy,  —  Speidell  writes,  "Come  to  Crick, — come 
when  you  like,  and  make  up  your  mind  to  stay  some  time  there." 

I  have  the  pleasure  to  tell  you  truly,  that  last  night  I  slept  from  half- 
past  two  in  my  crib  until  half-past  eleven — the  first  night's  rest  I  may 

call  it  since  I  arrived.     They  have  all  visited  me.     Mrs. sat  two 

hours  with  me  last  night.  But  for  a  violent  irritation  in  my  feet  and 
ankles,  I  believe  I  should  have  gone  through  the  night  without  waking. 

The  letter  was  thus  continued : — 

My  dear  Mrs.  Mathews,  pray  don't  be  alarmed  at  my  finishing  this 
letter.  By  great  good  fortune  1  have  persuaded  Mathews  to  have  advice ; 
and  the  reason  why  he  cannot  finish  this  is,  that  my  excellent  friend  Dr. 
Bryce,  after  patiently  listening  to  Mr.  Mathews's  accurate  description 
of  his  case  from  the  first  attack,  has  ordered  leeches  to  his  chest,  and  he 
is  now  reclined  on  his  chair,  with  some  twenty  or  twenty-four  of  those 


456  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

gentlemen  on  his  chest.  A  poultice  of  linseed  is  to  succeed  this;  and 
Dr.  Bryce  has  great  hopes  that  to-night  our  poor  invalid  will  be  able  to 
lie  down  in  his  bed. 

The  Doctor  says,  that  had  he  lost  a  little  blood  on  his  first  arrival,  his 
legs  would  not  have  been  affected ;  that  he  did  quite  right  to  put  leeches 
on  his  foot,  but  that  the  disorder  of  the  legs  is  nothing  but  a  natural  con- 
sequence of  his  complaint.  Dr.  Bryce  is  now  assisting  him  most  adroitly 
with  the  leeches,  and  feels  much  interest  about  their  performing  properly. 
He  read  Dr.  Rattray's  prescription  with  great  approbation,  and  seems 
to  have  no  doubt  but  in  a  short  time  Mr.  Mathews  will  be  able  to  travel ; 
such  is  the  state  of  his  system  at  present,  that  it  would  not  be  advisable 
to  hurry  him.  The  Doctor  has  ordered  Mr.  Mathews  to  inhale  steam, 
and  I  have  sent  for  an  inhaler.  It  gives  me  great  pleasure  to  have  at 
last  prevailed,  and  I  give  myself  credit  for  a  little  management.  Dr. 
Bryce  was  with  me  last  night.  I  mentioned  to  him  Mr.  Mathews's  case, 
and  his  obstinate  opinion  that  he  knew  his  own  case  better  than  anyone. 
Dr.  Bryce  replied,  "  Then  why  does  he  not  cure  himself?"  This  I  re- 
peated to-day  to  my  friend,  and  he  almost  immediately  asked  me  to  bring 
Dr.  Bryce,  to  my  great  joy. 

I  hope  all  will  now  be  well.  If  Mr.  Mathews  can  be  relieved  from 
his  suffering,  and  lie  down  to  rest,  all  other  ailments  will  speedily  cease. 
So  make  yourself  as  happy  as  you  can.  Don't  be  too  sanguine  as  to  time, 
and  be  assured  nothing  shall  be  wanting. 

Kind  remembrance  to  our  favourite  Charles. 

Conclude  me,  my  dear  madam,  faithfully  yours, 

Thomas  Winstanley. 


To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Liverpool,  March  26th,  1835. 

I  am  certainly  better,  and  my  cough  trifling  to  what  it  has  been.  I 
had  the  first  good  night  last  night  in  the  big  bed,*  and,  but  for  the  in- 
tolerable trouble  of  the  legs,  should  have  slept,  I  believe,  all  night.  My 
surgeon.  Dr.  Bryce,  smoked  with  me  till  twelve  o'clock ;  he  has  been  a 
great  traveller,  in  Egypt  and  many  other  countries,  and  is  very  intelligent. 
My  legs  are  bandaged  up  to  my  knees,  which  is  a  painful  process,  and  I 
am  undergoing  it  now,  propped  up  while  I  write. 

I  have  just  received  your  long  letter.  I  can't  say  a  word  about  the 
time  of  going ;  my  legs  must  be  reduced  first.  Speidell  must  not  expect 
me  till  I  write  to  him  to  say  I  have  taken  my  place.  Don't  expect  to 
hear  from  me  to-morrow,  for  it  is  a  great  effort,  as  I  dare  not  put  my  legs 
down.  I  am  supported  by  the  pleasure  in  perspective  at  seeing  you  and 
dear  Charles.     God  bless,  &c. 

C.  M. 

*  He  had  caused  a  sort  of  crib  to  be  placed  by  the  side  of  the  large  bed,  as 
it  was  easier  to  get  into. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  457 

To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Liverpool,  March  28th,  1835. 

There  is  no  chance  of  my  moving  yet.  I  am  sure  Bryce  is  sincere 
in  wishing  to  get  me  to  Crick ;  it  is  I  who  feel  it  to  be  impossible.  I 
have  had  a  blister  on  to-day,  from  which  I  expect  relief ;  but  it  is  a  foe 
to  writing.  Bryce,  for  his  own  satisfaction,  has  called  in  the  most 
experienced  man  here.*  Winstanley  dances  for  joy  at  this.  He  is  a 
very  old  Quaker ;  he  perfectly  approves  of  all  that  Bryce  has  done.  My 
nights  are  gradually  improving,  and  I  can  lie  on  my  back,  though  a 
blister  all  night  drawing  was  not  favourable.  The  old  gentleman  gives 
a  very  cheerful  view  of  my  case,  but  recommends  rest  here;  yet  I  am 
glad  you  have  declared  yourself,  for  Mrs.  Waldron  has  threatened 
to  come  here  and  nurse  me.  I  am  in  a  perspiration.  I  have  fully 
expected  her  by  the  mail  to-night — only  fancy,  her  without  you.  I  had 
another  long  ride  yesterday  with  Lewis.  I  have  great,  very  great  faith 
in  being  much  better  to-nkorrow ;  but  the  dressing  of  a  large  blister  is 
not  a  pleasing  operation,  and  this  has  been  "  a  bad  day  for  tlbe  Honour- 
able Mr.  Wyndham,"  &c. 

God  bless  you  all.        C.  M. 

His  endeavour  always  to  mingle  jest  with  pain  was  part  of 
his  kind  system  when  absent  from  me. 

The  woman  to  whom  allusion  is  made  at  the  close  of  the 
above  letter  once  attended  him  as  a  rubber.  This  person  was 
always  anxious  to  impress  upon  my  husband's  attention  her 
great  connexion,  and  that  he  was  the  only  commoner  she  con- 
descended to  attend ;  she  would  ingeniously,  as  she  believed, 
introduce  those  boasts  incidentally  in  the  course  of  her  remarks 
upon  weather,  &c.     Sometimes  she  told  Mr.  Mathews  how  Lord 

and  Lady  B were  affected  by  frost,  the  Duke  of  C by 

rain,  and  the  Marquis  of  D by  heat ;  but  one  day,  having 

come  to  the  end  of  her  noble  list,  she  observed,  during  a  bois- 
terous sort  of  morning,  "  This  is  a  bad  day  for  the  Honourable 
Mr.  Wyndham." 

To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Liverpool,  Saturday,  March  29th,  1835. 

On  Monday  morning  I  have  no  doubt  at  all  of  my  improvement ;  but 
it  is,  and  it  will  be,  very  slow.  The  worst  symptoms — the  shortness  of 
breathing — are  conquered,  and  I  can  rest  in  bed  as  formerly ;  a  great 
point.  I  am  tortured  by  their  keeping  the  blister  open  till  to-night. 
This  is  a  horror ;  but  my  "  leeches'    are  cheerful.     I  have  had  another 

set  on  my  foot  to-day ;  I  don't  mean  Doctors .     My  complexion  is 

absolutely  ruddy,  and  I  could  eat  if  they  would  let  me.     The  Canada^ 

*  Dr.  Rutter. 


458  THE  LIFE  AND   COKRESPONDENCE  OF 

I  see,  is  arrived.  Xow,  I  do  hope  Britton  will  set  that  affair  right  with 
Price.*     Excuse  more. 

God  bless  thee  and  dear  Charles. 

Ever,  ever  affectionately^  yours,        C.  Mathews. 

In  this  manner  I  was  induced  to  remain  in  London,  anxious 
and  waiting  from  post  to  post  for  a  summons  to  Crick,  whither 
on  his  expected  convalescence  he  was  to  proceed. 

To  H^rs.  Mathews. 

Liverpool,  March  31st,  1835. 

My  dear,  dear  Nanct, — How  good  you  are  to  write  so  much 
to  me.  I  did  not  expect  a  line  to-night,  therefore  the  Molesworth  was 
a  God-send.  If  you  could  know  "how  low  they  have  reduced"  a  man, 
you  might  fancy  my  childish  joy  at  any  touch  of  pleasant  news.     The 

and have  set  me  up.     I  can't  trust  myself  to  remarks  ;  I  am 

truly  pleased.  Pray  cultivate  this  feeling  j^  I  know  you  will  for  my 
sake.  The  attention  of  all  is  most  cheering.  I  deserve  the  Canterbury 
tale.  Lady  C.  is  right  not  to  go  to  Canada.  I  am  sure  you  think  so. 
If  they  did  but  know  how  they  have  worried  me  by  night.  I  spent  as 
scratching,  tumbling,  sleepless  hoars  as  Lord  Canterbury.  I  always 
liked  him,  and  had  he  been  a  brother  I  could  not  have  had  my  thoughts 
more  occupied  than  they  have  been  about  him.  He  never  will  know  it; 
but  the  sight  of  her  hand  had  a  very  odd  effect  on  a  mind  tottering,  at 
all  events,  as  mine  has  been.  Convey  from  me  how  obliged  I  am  by 
inquiries. 

I  have  almost  been  sobbing  over  your  list  of  kindnesses  and  your 
own  affectionate  expressions.  This  morning's  letter  would  have  settled 
all  doubts  as  to  the  folly  of  your  coming  here  to  return  to  Crick — at 
least,  I  hope  so.  I  am  better  every  hour ;  but  the  recovery  of  strength 
you  are  aware  is  not  very  magical.  My  legs  are  of  the  proper  size. 
This  is  marvellous !  My  knees  since  you  lett  me  have  been  as  large  as 
the  thickest  part  of  my  thigh.     It  was  truly  appalling. 

I  was  nearly  four  hours  in  Lewis's  carriage  yesterday,  and  could 
have  gone  forty  miles  in  my  way,  I  am  sure.  One  of  his  greys  was 
taken  with  a  pain  under  his  saddle  on  Sunday,  and,  as  the  flurry  on 
Friday  before  of  my  getting  ready  had  almost  brought  on  suffocation,  it 
was  agreed  that  I  should  be  got  ready  for  starting — so  I  was  dressed. 
You  have  seen  a  child  of  about  five  and  a  half  got  up  for  such  a  ride,  all 
stiff  and  uncomfortable,  trying  to  look  happ}';  the  fingers  all  poked 
unnaturally  out  for  fear  of  crumpling  the  gloves ;  expecting  to  be  lifted 
into  the  shay — the  lip  ready  to  be  poked  out  if  not  lifted  with  ease  and 
nicety.  At  two  on  Sunday  I  was  thus  equipped,  and  allowed  to  sit  at 
the  window  to  watch  for  the  carriage.     Every  grey  pony  that  showed 

*  This  "hope"  referred  to  an  erroneous  report  made  to  Mr.  Price  that  my 
husband  had  been  implicated  in  a  quarrel  which  had  taken  place  during  the 
voyage  out  between  the  agent  of  the  theatres  and  a  Yankee  passenger;  and  Mr. 
Mathews  wished  the  captain  of  the  Canada  to  contradict  this. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  459 

his  ears  round  the  corner  occasioned  the  clapping  of  the  little  hands — 
"  Here  he  is  !"  Thirty-five  minutes  were  thus  occupied,  when  lo !  the 
footman  announced  that  one  of  the  horses  had  been  taken  ill  while 
dressinc^.  Fancy  the  rest ;  "  give  me  my  hat  and  wig  again  ;"  the  sun 
shining  brilliantly  too.  Lewis  came  at  three  to  explain ;  but  the  little 
dear  had  dried  his  eyes  and  got  his  gloves  off,  and  had  his  great  coat  off 
and  folded  up  in  the  drawer,  and  was  reconciled.  He  could  have  had 
another  horse,  but  postilion  was  obliged  to  turn  veterinary.  Yesterday 
made  up  for  all.  Your  parcel  last  night  almost  alarmed  me  till  I 
opened  it ;  of  course  you  did  not  look  out  for  an  answer,  it  having  been 
anticipated  by  the  tria  juncta  in  uno  of  this  morning.  Cobb  has 
twenty-five  cabin  people  ready  for  turning  off  to-morrow.;  think  of 
them  to-morrow  night.  Bryce  says  I  may  move  this  week.  It  now 
depends  on  my  feelings ;  but  be  prepared.  He  says  T  owe  all  to  my 
constitution  and  temperance.  No  person  could  have  recovered  with  the 
inside  impaired  by  rich  living  with  my  symptoms.  Willy  Thompson 
cheered  me  last  night  by  three  hours'  chat.  Poor  James  Henderson 
died  a  month  ago  at  Geneva. 

Love,  &c.        C.  Mathews. 


To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Liverpool,  April  2nd,  1835. 

The  deed  is  done.  I  have  taken  two  places  in  the  mail,  one  for  me, 
the  other  for  my  legs,  and  what  position  I  like  best.  This,  I  think  you 
will  allow,  is  a  sensible  plan ;  and,  after  thinking  the  matter  over  every 
way  (and  three  hours'  more  experience  of  a  carriage  to-day,  and  perfect 
confidence  as  to  strength),  we  are  all  agreed  that  1  shall  be  popped  into 
one  carriage,  and  popped  out  within  seven  miles  of  my  new  home 
without  anxiety ;  therefore,  to-morrow  night,  Friday,  April  3rd,  please 
God,  I  leave  my  melancholy  prison,  and  on  Saturday  hope  to  be  fetched 
at  Dunchurch  at  twelve ;  "  so  no  more  about."  I  am  in  the  dark  as  to 
meeting  you  there,  of  course ;  therefore  remarks  are  useless.  I  have 
no  more  to  say ;  but  God  bless  and  reward  you  for  all  your  care  and 
afiection  to  me,  for  I  am  sure  it  is  boundless,  and  never  will  be  forgot- 
ten by  me.     Greatest  love  to  thee  and  dear  Charley. 

Ever  affectionately  yours,        C.  Mathews. 


To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Crick,  April  6th,  1835. 

My  dearest  Nancy, — How  grateful  to  God  I  feel  when  I  look  at 
the  above !  I  have  looked  forward  with  such  anxiety  to  reach  this  spot, 
that  I  can  hardly  believe  my  own  senses  that  my  wishes  are  realized. 
That  dreary  dungeon  of  a  bedroom  became  at  last  intolerable.     Oh, 


460  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

what  a  contrast  is  this !  I  hope  Mr.  Yarneham*  was  faithful,  though 
I  suppose  he  did  not  get  admitted ;  but  Speidell's  parcel  would.  I 
thought  it  would  be  an  agreeable  surprise  to  you  to  see  somebody  who 
had  seen  me,  and  I  hope  it  turned  out  well.  The  way  in  which  1  bore 
my  journey  is  perfectly  marvellous.  After  I  had  taken  my  place  on 
Thursday  I  felt  a  sudden  alarm  that  I  had  undertaken  too  much,  and 
did  repent  me.  On  Friday  I  was  so  weak  and  low  that  I  studied 
Paterson  as  to  the  convenient  places  to  stop  at  in  the  night.  As  it  came 
towards  execution  time,  I  was  one  mass  of  nervous  tremor,  and  terrified 
at  what  I  had  undertaken.  Lynn  had  made  interest  for  the  mail  to 
take  me  up  at  his  door.  Fauntleroy  felt  no  more ;  he  could  not.  "  Mail 
had  gone  wrong  way "  was  enough  for  the  idlers.  They  ran  to  the 
Waterloo,  and  my  own  little  knot  of  farewellers  was  enough  to  warrant 
the  reading  of  the  riot  act  before  their  arrival.  Meshim  Mirza,  or  some 
such  name,  was  at  the  Waterloo  a  fortnight  ago,  a  Persian,  and  I  heard 
that  name  actually  articulated.  You  may  imagine  the  rest.  I  rejoiced 
when  I  was  safe  away,  and  was  fortunate  in  my  strength  to  adhere  to  a 
resolution  of  keeping  awake  if  possible,  and  I  did.  I  had  thus  an 
opportunity  of  gazing  at  Mister  Willson  "  without  blushing."  Oh, 
could  you  have  seen  him !  He  did  not  resemble  "  my  father  as  he  slept." 
I  do  think  him  very  plain.  Well,  no  matter;  I  may  say  I  felt  not  an 
inconvenience,  and,  I  should  say,  my  journey  did  me  service.  Up  to 
this  moment  I  have  no  evidence  that  I  am  a  sufferer  by  it.  Is  not  this 
astonishing?  I  thought  I  should  get  here  all  along.  The  Quaker.f 
they  can  tell  me  now,  said  when  he  left  me,  having  heard  me  say  my 
great  anxiety  was  to  get  on  the  road  to  London, — "  Poor  fellow !  he 
little  thinks  what  road  he's  going."  You  were,  of  course,  not  aware  I 
was  given  over.  I  did  not  know,  till  I  began  to  joke,  that  I  had  been 
in  danger.  Bryce  has  very  kindly  written  a  very  long  medical  report 
of  my  case  to  Eattray,  with  all  the  symptoms,  the  mode  of  treatment, 
with  all  the  prescriptions,  &c.  Was  not  this  kind  as  well  as  judicious  ? 
I  am  very  weak,  and  my  cough  still  troublesome ;  but  I  do  not  feel 
otherwise  as  if  I  should  want  medical  aid.  Kattray  is,  however, 
coming  to-day.  Wonder  knows  no  bounds ;  for  they  all  felt  that  they 
only  yielded  to  my  obstinacy  in  attempting  to  travel  for  a  week  to  come. 
The  dreaded  expense  of  advice  brought  me  within  the  verge  of  eternity ; 
I  may  say  in  a  double  sense  the  leeches  saved  me,  and  now  I  must 
bleed  again.  By  Sir  William  Molesworth  you  must  send  a  30Z.  note  to 
Winstanley  to-morrow  night ;  but  I  am  alive.  Speidell  says  you  and 
Charles  must  come  directly.  Fop  wags  his  tail  at  you.  His  first  lawn 
since  August  delights  him. 

Yours  has  just  arrived;  and  I  have  only  five  minutes  while  postman 
waits.  We  are  very  sorry ;  but,  of  course,  can  say  no  more  as  to  our 
disappointment.     As  to  wanting  you  as  a  nurse,  the  above  will  prove  to 

*  A  gentleman  whom  he  travelled  with,  who,  though  a  stranger,  showed  the 
most  humane  and  valuable  attention  to  him  during  the  journey, 
t  Dr.  Butter. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  461 

you  I  do  not.     I  have  not  time  for  more  remarks ;  come  as  soon  as  you 
can.     God  bless  you  both,  my  dear  loves. 

C.  Mathews. 

Tell  Charles  there  is  no  cure  for  his  complaint,  and  no  relief  from 
medicine.  Leeches  or  lancet  alone  will  do.  Don't  believe  in  any  drug. 
I  wish  Charles  Young  were  at  home :  he  could  tell  him.  I  grieve — 
truly  grieve,  at  an  attack  at  his  age.     No  reward  here  for  temperance. 

A.n  application  from  the  Committee  of  the  Theatrical  Fund 
had,  of  course,  been  answered  by  myself,  expressive  of  my  hus- 
band's deep  concern  that  he  was  unable  to  give  his  customary 
assistance  at  the  anniversary  dinner. 

The  day  before  it  took  place  he  felt  able  to  write,  and  a  copy 
of  the  following  letter  has  been  furnished  me  for  insertion  by 
my  husband's  old  and  esteemed  friend  Mr.  Farley : — 

To  the  Committee  of  the  Covent  Garden  Theatrical  Fund. 

Crick  Rectory,  Daventry,  April  7th,  1835. 

IVfY  DEAE  Beetheen, — I  need  not  say  how  much  I  regret  I  cannot 
be  with  you  to-morrow.  You  all  know  my  sincerit3'',  when  I  say  my 
heart  will  be  there.  I  vainly  flattered  myself  that  I  should  take  you 
all  by  surprise,  and  present  myself  last  week,  "  armed  at  all  points ; " 
but  alas !  I  knew  not  my  own  weakness.  As  I  am  now  so  near  you,  I 
could  not  endure  the  thought  that  you  should  remain  in  utter  ignorance 
of  my  situation,  or  imagine  I  was  indifferent,  or  neglecting  you  without 
good  reason.  The  newspapers  too,  I  understand,  have  announced  my 
arrival  in  London,  &c.  Therefore,  as  I  thought  it  probable  that,  on  the 
day  of  the  anniversary  dinner,  inquiries  might  be  made  by  the  visitors 
of  the  stewards,  I  felt  some  little  anxiety  that  you  might  briefly  inform 
them  of  the  cause  of  my  absence,  and  say  the  information  came  from 
myself.  On  the  2nd  of  October  last,  I  sickened  at  New  York ;  I  felt 
blighted,  my  energies  withered,  my  appetite  destroyed,  my  spirits 
broken.  I  was  not  confined  to  my  bed  one  day ;  but  I  was  never  in 
health  one  hour  from  the  time  of  my  arrival  until  I  quitted  America. 

In  December,  I  announced  to  my  wife  ray  convictions  that  I  must 
fly  or  die.  I  could  not  play  out  my  engagement  at  Philadelphia.  I 
performed  one  night  at  Boston  to  a  great  house ;  all  the  tickets  were 
sold  for  the  second.  I  could  not  appear,  and  was  confined  nine  days. 
When  I  came  out  again  the  thermometer  was  at  twenty-four  degrees 
below  zero.  I  stood  at  my  table  one  hour  and  a  half;  and  the  bolt  of 
ice  that  entered  my  head,  and  extended  to  my  feet,  has,  in  fact,  re- 
mained in  my  lungs  until  this  present  moment  unthawed  !  From  my 
landing,  30th  September,  till  I  fled,  18th  February,  I  performed  in  all 
thirty-two  nights.  I  had  the  satisfaction  of  concluding  as  I  commenced 
at  New  York,  to  one  of  the  greatest,  if  not  the  best  house  of  the 
season.     The  Americans  and  I  parted  friends  on  the  night,  I  believe 


462  THE  LIFE  AND   COERESPONDENCE  OF 

now  to  have  been  the  last  upon  any  stage,*  and  my  spirits  were  cheered,* 
but  I  landed,  "  poor  old  Mathews,"  indeed,  at  Liverpool,  broken  down 
(very  feeble  for  eighty)  with  inflammation  of  the  lungs,  asthma,  swelled 
dropsical-looking  legs,  and,  in  fact,  at  one  time  was  given  over. 

These  are  the  facts.  I  have  rallied  against  the  predictions  of  the 
Liverpool  physicians,  and  to  the  amazement  of  all  who  surround  me ; 
but  I  am  robbed  of  all  energy,  I  am  weak  as  an  infant,  and  my  stock 
in  trade,  my  hitherto  leathern  lungs,  give  strong  indications  of  being 
under  the  influence  of  the  Bostonian  shaft  of  ice  with  which  I  was 
stricken  in  January. 

Mrs.  Mathews,  who  was  compelled  to  leave  me  when  I  was  pro- 
nounced out  of  danger,  has  been  exceedingly  ill  herself  since  her  arrival 
in  London  ;  and  it  struck  me  to-day  that  she  might  not  have  communi- 
cated my  exact  situation  to  any  of  my  good  fellow-labourers  in  our  great 
cause.  I  have  removed,  as  far  as  this,  by  easy  stages,  where  I  have 
excellent  advice,  and  shall  remain  for  a  few  days. 

God  bless  you,  dear  fellows  !  If  I  could  be  wheeled  into  the  room, 
I  do  think  I  could  sing  one  song  to-morrow ;  but,  perhaps,  I  had  better 
not  try.  Do,  one  of  you,  good  boys,  write  me  six  lines  on  Thursday, 
and  say  how  all  went  off;  directed  as  above  (saying  also  Northampton- 
shire). Success — success- — huzza!  lam  doubly  hipped.  Let  all  the 
stewards  sign  it.     Farewell.     Remember 

PooE  "  OLD  Mathews." 


To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Crick,  Sunday,  1835. 

My  dearest  Nancy, — I  hope  we  shall  see  you  on  Tuesday.  I  am 
much  better.  I  have  been  occasionally  so  ill  and  desponding  this  week, 
that  I  did  not  wish  you  to  see  me.  My  feet  have  been  two  masses  of 
swelling  and  inflammation,  and  the  irritation  enough  to  drive  any  one 
mad.  The  poultices,  as  large  as  quartern  loaves — the  only  chance  I 
had  to  get  rest,  as  they  preserved  my  feet  from  the  ferocious  attack  of  my 
own  nails.  Then  the  old  afftiir,  gout  or  not,  has  prevented  my  moving 
without  being  wheeled  about.  The  original  disease,  I  believe,  to  be 
now  nearly  conquered,  and  I  am  to-day  truly  better  in  every  respect.  I 
went  as  far  as  Daventry  yesterday  to  see  Rattray.  To-day  I  am  a  victim 
to  calomel.     The  cough  almost  gone,  and  no  shortness  of  breathing. 

I  have  more  than  one  or  two  reasons  for  fearing  I  cannot  act  much 
longer,  if  at  all. 

These  things  weigh  upon  my  mind  night  and  day,  and  impede  my 
recovery  of  strength.  Your  tone  of  courage,  I  fear  is  mere  bravado, 
to  encourage  me.  Therefore,  I  should  like  a  well-considered  answer  to 
my  question  from  you  and  dear  Charles.f     I  do  not  doubt  you  will  be- 

*  This  augury  was  correct — it  was  his  last  ! 
+  This  question,  as  well  as  other  allusions  obscure  to  the  reader,  involves 
the  feelings  of  existing  persons,  whom  it  would  be  painful  to  me,  as  useless, 
to  wound  by  explanation. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  4G3 

Keve  me,  that  if  it  pleases  God  to  restore  my  stren<>th  (and  memory) 
1  will  work  to  prevent  my  leaving  you,  as  I  fear  I  should,  had  I  died 
at  Liverpool,  and  I  would  do  it  as  willingly  for  Charles  as  if  he  were 
only  three  years  old.  I  consider  that  as  much  my  duty  as  ever,  for  I 
cannot  reproach  him  with  his  ill  luck ;  but  need  I  say  I  am  most  un- 
fortunate.    1'he  trip  to  America  I  thought  my  only  chance  left.     Look 

at  the  result— and  my  annihilation  now.     Oh  !  that  D could  but 

see  it  in  the  right  light,  and  believe  the  fact,  that  integrity  as  regards 
him  has  almost,  if  not  quite,  killed  me. 

If  you  come  on  Tuesday,  let  us  know,  as  I  will  fetch  you ;  and  when- 
ever it  is,  Speidell  is  to  take  me  the  same  day  to  Sir  Charles  Knightley, 
whose  leg  was  broken  by  his  horse  dropping  down  dead  in  a  gallop,  and 
fallinjr  on  him. 


To  H.  B.  Gyles,  Esq. 

Crick  Rectory,  Daventry,  April  23rd,  1835. 

Deae  Gyles, — 1  am,  thank  God,  recovering,  after  a  desperate 
struggle  of  more  than  a  month  ;  indeed,  I  may  say  that  I  have  been  a 
severe  sufferer,  from  the  1st  of  March  until  the  15th  of  April,  the  first 
eighteen  days  of  which  I  never  went  to  bed.  Inflammation  of  the  lungs, 
asthmatic  symptoms,  produced  a  sensation  of  suffocation  the  instant  I 
was  placed  in  a  horizontal  posture.  I  was  pronounced  dead  during  the 
voyage  (but  I  never  was  dead).  Luckily  we  had  a  beautiful  passage  of 
only  nineteen  days  (we  had  forty  going  out),  and  landed  early  in  March, 
in  hopes  of  change  of  climate  restoring  me.  I  became,  however,  in- 
stantly worse  ;  and  suffered  horrors,  paying  off  old  scores,  and  making 
up,  as  it  were,  for  years  of  health.  I  did  not  know  till  I  partially  re- 
covered, sufficiently  to  move  here,  that  I  had  been  given  over  by  two 
physicians  at  Liverpool.  My  recovery  is  a  wonder.  But  I  am  totally 
incapable  of  attempting  anything  professional.  My  "  At  Home"  has 
been  abandoned ;  and,  in  i'act,  I  have  lost  a  year's  income  by  my  fatal 
trip  to  America.  In  six  months  I  performed  thirty-two  nights,  and 
went  there  with  every  rational  hope  of  setting  all  affairs  right  for  life. 
I  felt  a  conviction  that  die  I  must  if  I  stayed,  but  did  not  anticipate 
such  ill  fortune  on  my  return. 

I  fear  my  lungs  have  done  their  do.  I  felt  withered  and  blighted  by 
the  Siberian  winter  of  America,  and  fear  I  shall  never  quite  recover  it. 
Now  I  will  explain  my  inuendo.  Since  I  came  here,  a  physician  said, 
"  the  change  of  air  has  done  all  for  you  here,  I  do  believe.  If  I  were 
you,  I  would  go,  when  I  moved,  to  the  sea-side,  and  get  some  warm 
salt-water  baths,"  &c.  In  about  forty-eight  hours  comes  your  letter ; 
and,  I  will  say,  I  was  really  pleased  to  see  it,  because  I  don't  want 
another  niche  in  my  misanthropic  calendar.  Now  I  can  ask  you  to  deliver 
a  message  for  me,  for  I  dcm't  know  how  to  direct  to  him.  If  it  is  con- 
venient to  him,  and  he  recollects  asking  me,  and  was  sincere,  and  he 
would  really  like  to  see  me,  &c.,  I  should  of  all  things  like  to  come  in 
some  part  of  May.  I  should  in  that  case  go  across  from  hence  to  Ports- 
mouth, and  go  thence  per  steam. 


464  THE  LIFE  AND  COEKESPONDENCE  OF 


CHAPTER  XLV. 

Mr.  Mathews's  departure  from  Crick — His  journey  to  Oxford — Embarks  for 
Plymouth — His  arrival  there — Mr,  Harris's  report  as  to  the  progress  of  Mr. 
Mathews's  illness — Letter  to  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Mt  stay  at  Crick  was  again  unsettled  by  the  same  consideration 
of  business  in  town,  which  urged  my  husband  to  enforce  mine 
and  Charles's  return  ;  he  thinking  himself  better,  and  proposing 
to  proceed  to  Devonshire  to  visit  his  bachelor  friend,  where  he 
felt  the  presence  of  a  lady  would  prove  an  inconvenience.  Charles 
and  1,  therefore,  took  a  reluctant  leave  of  our  dear  patient,  leav- 
ing him  prepared  to  depart  from  Crick  also  in  a  couple  of  days 
after ;  previous  to  which  our  host  was  unexpectedly  and  sud- 
denly compelled  to  visit  London  on  business. 

To  the  Rev.  Thomas  Speidell. 

Crick,  May  11th. 

My  dear  Speidell, — When  you  requested  I  would  write,  I  pre- 
sume you  meant  that  I  should  announce  the  time  of  my  departure 
from  dear  Crick.  I  have  therefore  waited  for  the  purpose  of  informing 
you  that  I  have  the  decency  at  length  to  depart,  having  performed  the 
part  of  Sponge  to  the  life,  and  with  ease,  in  less  than  six  weeks. 
Indeed,  had  you  not  in  your  romantic  hospitality  pressed  me  to  stay 
so  often,  even  after  your  departure,  I  should  be  ashamed  to  acknowledge 
the  extent  of  my  presumption,  while  I  should  think  it  my  duty  to  express 
my  gratitude. 

The  reason  of  my  stay  after  the  departure  of  Mrs.  Mathews  and 
Charles,  was,  that  Fawcett,  with  whom  I  stay  a  day  or  two,  could  not 
get  home  till  Sunday,  nor  did  I  know  it  till  that  day, — and  that  the 
steamboat  days  are  Tuesdays  and  Fridays ;  so  that  I  must  have  spent 
all  Sunday  in  Oxford,  in  preference  to  the  rectory  (for  which  you  will 
think  me  too  good  a  judge),  or  left  Crick  to-day  for  Oxford,  with  the 
great  doubt  of  being  in  time  for  the  Plymouth  boat  on  Tuesday. 

I  shall  now  have  ample  time,  and  therefore  have  taken  my  place 
for  to-morrow, — proceed  on  Wednesday  to  Winchester,  where  Fawcett 
meets  me, — and  embark  on  Friday.  I  am  so  afflicted  with  shortness 
of  breathing,  that  I  am  in  horror  of  a  relapse;  but  this  enh^e  nous.     I 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  465 

have  once  or  twice  wavered  as  to  going  to  town ;  but  I  am  too  weak 
to  encounter  the  cares  that  would  crowd  upon  me  at  home,  and  this  I 
soon  discovered  when  I  talked  upon  business  here.  I  say  all  this,  dear 
friend,  to  excuse  m^'self  a  little  in  your  eyes,  for  my  horrible  encroach- 
ment on  your  good-nature. 

I  did  the  honours  j'esterday  in  your  absence,  to  the  best  of  m}'  ability, 
though  albeit  unused  to  the  luncheon  ceremonies.     Mr.  Bird  did  the 

duty  in  the  morning,  and  Mr. afternoon, — with  the  utmost  timidity, 

I  should  think,  from  his  manner  of  taking  refreshment.  He  had  a  large 
congregation,  and  told  me  that  the  size  of  the  church  almost  frightened 
him,  he  being  used  only  to  small  ones.  He  was  greatly  fatigued,  and 
doubted  whether  he  had  made  himself  heard. 

I  have,  in  addition  to  your  great  kindness  and  attention  to  me,  to 
record  the  unceasing  watching  and  petting  of  your  servants.  Messrs. 
Smith,  Cotter,  and  Hodgson  have  called ;  and  I  have  been  once  out  in 
the  gig  to  call  on  the  latter.  I  had  hoped  to  have  seen  some  of  the 
Rattrays.  Daventry  was  too  far  for  me,  on  the  chance  of  seeing  the 
doctor,  and  therefore  I  must  quit  with  the  load  on  my  mind  of  my  affair 
with  him.  I  have  written  to  him  to  say,  I  have  left  the  delicate  subject 
in  your  care  and  keeping.  Pray  talk  it  over  with  Mrs.  Mathews.  I 
never  was  fit  for  money  matters.  My  impression  certainly  was,  that  I 
had  sent  for  him  professionally,  and  had  no  opportunity  of  offering  him 
a.  fee,  as  he  refused  before,  unless  he  wrote  a  prescription.  I  leave  my 
honour  in  your  hands. 

And  now,  dear  Speidell,  allow  me  to  say  that  I  never  can  forget  your 
unwearied  affectionate  attentions  to  me: — they  are  engraved  on  my 
heart,  be  assured.  You  have  saved  my  life,  if  it  be  but  for  a  short  time, 
by  the  aid  of  your  hospitable  roof.  'Tis  but  a  poor  commodity  ;  but  if 
you  could  be  placed  in  a  situation  to  want  it,  you  should  be  welcome 
to  the  wear  and  tear  of  it. 

God  bless  thee,  thou  kindest  of  friends,  prays  your  ever  grateful  and 
sincere  friend, 

C.  Mathews. 

Alas !  this  excellent  and  dear  frieud  outlived  the  writer  of  the 
foregoing  letter  but  a  few  months.  Mr.  Speidell  died  suddenly, 
from  an  attack  of  spasms,  at  his  rectory,  to  the  grief  of  all  who 
had  known  him.  In  quitting  the  world  before  him,  my  dear 
husband  escaped  the  severe  pang  of  losing  one  whom  he  loved 
as  a  brother ;  and  I  have  to  thank  Heaven  for  this  mercy  added 
to  the  many  sorrows  that  the  sufferer  was  spared  by  his  own 
timely  removal  from  this  world  of  trial  and  sadness. 

To  Mrs.  MatJiews. 

Royal  William  Victualling-yard,  Plymouth, 
Saturday,  May  17th,  1835. 
My  dearest  Nanct, — I  have  just  now  time  to  keep  my  promise, 
and  you  from  suspense,  by  announcing  my  safe  aiiival.     "  I  never  was 

H  H 


466  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

sick  Jioll  the  way."  I  believe  I  slept  fifteen  hours  out  of  twenty,  and 
am  as  well  as  I  could  have  hoped.  Beautiful  situation — very  fine  garden, 
which  suits  both  me  and  Fop.  Franklin  brought  his  own  boat  to  the 
«teamer  to  meet  me,  and  1  had  neither  trouble  nor  anxiety.  Gyles  was 
here  to  welcome  me,  and  little  Russell ;  in  short,  everything  is  right 
comfortable,  and  you  would  be  as  satisfied  to  leave  me  here  as  at  Speidell's. 
]  will  have  immediate  advice,  and  proceed  at  once  to  a  system  and  course 
of  treatment,  until  I  perceive  some  amendment  of  the  now  worse  leature, 
shortness  of  breathing. 

I  have  not  time  now  to  give  my  final  instructions  about  the  things  to 
be  sent,  but  will  in  my  next. 

If  Winstanley  is  not  gone  from  London,  show  him  the  following  ex- 
tract from  Dr.  Bree  on  asthma : — "  The  mind  of  an  asthmatic  is  impa- 
tient, and  suffers  much  from  an  opposition  to  his  own  method  of 
management;  after  several  accessions  he  has  ascertained  modes  of 
comfort  and  gratification,  which  the  anxiety  of  his  friends  may  impede 
rather  than  promote  by  their  solicitude  and  attentions.  He  therefore  is 
irritable,  and  with  difficulty  restrains  his  disposition  to  petulance,  and 
absolutely  repels  the  most  cautious  attentions  of  friends." 

Fawcett,  like  a  good  i'ellow,  drove  me  to  Gosport ;  and  now,  dear,  dear 
wife,  be  assured  I  will  do  all  in  my  power  to  recover  and  keep  myself 
up.  God  bless  thee  and  dear  Charley.  Mrs.  Gyles  sends  her  kindest 
regards. 

Ever  affectionately  yours,        Chaeles  Mathews. 

Since  writing  the  above,  I  have  seen  Mr.  Snow  Harris,  who  seems 
confident  in  putting  me  immediately  into  a  course  that  will  restore  me. 
He  speaks  very  cheerfully. 

The  above  extract  from  Dr.  Bree  is  one  of  those  instances,  of 
which  I  could  quote  many,  of  m  y  husband's  generous  regret 
when  he  thought  he  might  have  seemed  rude  and  unthankful 
for  well-meant  attention  and  service.  To  me,  who  knew  so  tho- 
roughly the  nature  of  the  apologist,  it  was  very  touching  to 
find  him  indulging  in  after-thoughts  like  these,  at  a  time  when 
the  mind  is  generally  apt  to  turn  only  upon  the  sufferings  of  the 
body.  But  instead  of  this  selfishness,  upon  the  first  pause,  a 
sort  of  tender  compunction  seized  him,  and  a  desire  to  make 
some  excuse  for  any  abruptness  of  manner  or  opposition  to 
advice  and  opinion  into  which  he  might  have  been  betrayed  to- 
wards a  kind  friend.  It  was  ever  so — he  could  not  seem  un- 
justly angry  or  ungracious  without  feeling  deeply  himself  when 
it  was  over. 

To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Plymouth,  May  18th,  1835. 
Dear  Madam, — Mr.  Mathews  has  been  prevailed  on  by  my  advice  to 
apply  a  large  blister  over  the  chest,  and  to  resort  to  some  internal 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  467 

remedies  requisite  for  his  health.     We  cannot,  therefore,  permit  him  to 
undergo  any  sort  of  mental  or  bodily  excitement  for  some  days. 

He  appears  to  me  to  have  greatly  improved  since  his  first  attack  at 
Liverpool,  but  as  is  irequently  the  case  with  diseases  affecting  the  chest, 
symptoms  of  distress  in  breathing  will  occasionally  show  themselves. 
Without  cause  for  great  alarm  on  your  part,  therefore,  I  may  perhaps 
be  allowed  to  say  that  a  slight  return  of  these  oppressive  symptoms  has 
taken  place  since  his  arrival  here,  brought  on  probably  by  the  fatigue 
incidental  to  a  long  journey  and  voyage.  We  confidently  hope,  however, 
that  they  will  effectually  be  relieved  by  treatment  and  perfect  quiet  in 
the  course  of  a  few  days.  There  are  favourable  signs  of  amendment 
even  this  morning.  I  beg  you  to  believe  that  Mr.  M.ithews  is  under 
the  care  of  friends  here  who  highly  regard  and  prize  him,  and  who 
will  not  leave  anything  undone  which  may  contribute  to  his  health  and 
comfort. 

Mr.  Mathews  is  anxious  to  reply  to  the  communications  which  he 
received  last  night,  but  we  really  cannot  allow  him  to  undergo  the  mental 
excitement  which  they  necessarily  imply.  We  must  keep  him  altogether 
quiet  just  at  this  time. 

I  am,  dear  madam,  very  faithfully  and  respectfully. 
Your  humble  servant, 

William  Snow  Haeeis. 


My  deaeest  Nancy, — I  have  directed  this  that  you  might  not  suffer 
a  suspense  in  opening  it.  I  am  only  suffering  under  a  huge  blister,  which 
has  kept  me  in  bed,  I  dare  not  even  read  all  you  have  written  till  to- 
morrow.    Love  to  dear  Charles. 

Ever  affectionately  yours,     .  C.  Mathews. 

I  have  Sir  G,  Magrath,  physician,  as  well  as  Harris. 

These  communications,  however  satisfactory  they  might  seem 
to  others,  only  gave  me  a  fresh  anxiety  to  rejoin  him,  and  I  wrote 
to  entreat  to  be  permitted  to  do  so,  dreading  to  act  without  hia 
consent  lest  I  should  agitate  him,  which  I  was  warned  not 
to  do. 

To  Mrs.  Mathews. 

Plymouth,  May  2l8t,  1835. 

My  deae,  deae  Love, — Be  assured  that  if  there  were  any  necessity 
for  your  being  with  me,  I  would  not  allow  of  a  separation.  I  have  had 
a  solemn  promise  from  both  my  doctors  to  warn  me  if  I  was  in  any 
danger,  and  in  that  case  I  meant  to  send  for  you  or  go  to  London.  They 
both  declare  I  am  better  than  when  I  came,  and  do  not  doubt  my  being 
speedily  better.  The  weather  is  now  quite  like  summer — absolutely 
warm.  I  have  been  out  yesterday  and  to-day.  Yesterday  nine  miles. 
It  is  the  treatment — the  immediate  use  of  an  immense  blister — and  exer- 

u  II 2  : 


468  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

tion  that  has  affected  me  more  than  new  symptoms.  As  to  Willson, 
nothing  shall  make  me  submit  to  him.*  My  legs  are,  thank  God! 
recovered.  I  sleep  well.  Harris  puts  me  to  bed,  and  attends  me  before 
I  am  up.  What  can  I  want  with  a  nurse  ?  I  assure  you,  dearest,  your 
coming  would  be  the  greatest  inconvenience.  F.  is  a  bachelor.  You 
could  not  be  accommodated.  To  be  moved  again  would  be  a  horror  to 
me.  Never  had  man  such  an  attentive  medical  attendant.  You  would 
be  in  the  way  were  you  to  come,  and  I  cannot  reconcile  the  expense. 
There  is  no  new  feature  in  my  case,  and  the  old  ones  are  all  mitigated. 
Mrs.  Gyles  is  a  nurse  also.  She  has  made  me  jellies,  and  some  of  the  party 
are  always  with  me.  At  all  events,  wait  patiently  till  Monday,  and  I 
will  then  speak  decisively  as  to  the  future ;  but  I  have  faith  in  being  well 
enough  to  remain  alone.  Writing  yesterday  was  out  of  the  question,  and 
I  did  not  like  a  strange  hand  again 

This  'etter  is  continued  in  another  hand. 

The  above  blot  is  mine,  and  I  confess  it.f  We  are  all  of  opinion  here, 
except  the  invalid,  that  symptoms  of  improvement  have  manifested 
themselves.  He,  however,  appears  to  think  that  it  is  time  to  enter  upon 
a  system  of  tonics,  and  we  all  know,  that  when  the  best  doctors  have 
considered  a  case  and  prescribed  for  it,  that  the  old  axiom  of  every  man 
at  forty  being  either  a  fool  or  a  physician,  means  simply,  that  nature  has 
her  own  remedies  in  reserve,  and  is  eager  to  suggest  them. 

The  weather  is  extremely  fine,  and  that,  combining  with  the  novelty 
of  the  scene,  may  aid  his  spirits  and  amuse  his  imagination,  tending 
eventuallj',  though  not  so  rapidly  as  we  all  desire,  to  that  happy  resto- 
ration of  health  which  is  essential  to  both  your  enjoyments.  The 
season,  and  I  think  I  may  confidently  add,  the  undoubted  skill  of  his 
medical  advisers,  promise  a  happy  result;  therefore,  my  dear  Mrs. 
Mathews,  rest  satisfied  that,  surrounded  by  his  friends,  and  assisted 
by  the  best  advice,  your  dear  husband  may  be  considered  on  the 
mending  hand.  H.  G. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Mathews, — I  can  only  repeat  what  my  husband 
has  said  before  in  regard  to  your  dear  husband,  that  every  earthly  atten- 
tion that  old  friends  can  give  he  shall  have;  and  I  do  think  that  in  a 
few  days  we  shall  be  able  to  give  you  a  good  account  of  our  endeavours 
to  restore  him  to  us  all  again.  The  situation  here  is  everything  you 
can  desire,  and  you  may  depend  upon  our  care.  With  kind  regards  to 
Charles,  believe  me,  dear  Mrs.  Mathews, 

Yours  afiectionately,        Charlotte  Gyles. 

Thus  was  I  beguiled,  and  thus  was  I  prevented  from  doing 
what  I  felt  I  ought  not  to  have  been  denied. 

*  I  had  suggested  that  he  ought  to  have  a  person  about  him  to  whom  he  had 
been  accustomed,  and  proposed  his  late  servant,  not  being  at  the  time  wholly 
acquainted  with  all  my  husband's  reasons  for  discharging  him. 

t  A  feint,  as  I  afterwards  learned,  in  compliance  with  my  husband's  desire, 
that  the  sudden  disability  which  had  caused  the  blot  should  be  concealed  from 
my  knowledge. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  469 


CHAPTER  XL VI. 

Formal  announcement  to  Mrs.  Mathews  of  the  impossibility  of  her  husband's 
recovery — Mr.  Wightwick's  recital  of  the  progress  of  Mr.  Mathews's  dis- 
order— A  happy  evening — Final  interview  between  Mr.  Mathews  and  his 
son — Mr.  Mathews's  conversation  in  writing — His  night-visions — Delusive 
symptoms — His  last  words — His  death — The  last  mournful  ceremonies  — His 
monument. 

In  consequence  of  an  intimation  sent  unknown  to  him  to  apprize 
me  of  his  dangerous  state,  I  and  Charles  hastened  to  Plymouth 
with  feelings  of  the  most  miserable  description,  when,  notwith- 
standing all  my  husband's  opposition  (from  prudential  motives) 
to  admitting  those  about  him  whom  he  loved  best,  after  the  first 
surprise  of  arrival  was  over,  the  dear  sufferer  declared  his  satis- 
faction. From  that  moment  1  was  his  constant  and  exclusive 
attendant,  and  O  what  soothing  reflections  are  those  to  my  dis- 
consolate mind,  that  he  would  from  that  time  only  allow  me  to 
nurse  him  !  Such  thankfulness,  such  gratitude  did  he  show, 
and  such  affection  during  my  task !  But  of  this  I  must  nob 
write. 

After  a  few  days  I  was  formally  summoned  apart  from  my  dear 
husband,  and  informed  by  the  physicians  of  the  utter  impossi- 
bility of  his  recovery.  Who  shall  describe  the  agony  of  that 
moment !  and  yet,  after  the  first  burst  of  anguish,  and  I  had 
stifled  a  part  of  the  emotions  excited,  I  presented  myself  before 
the  dear  object  of  my  care  as  if  I  had  nothing  new  upon  my 
mind !  Nay,  I  attended  him  for  weeks  after ;  and,  in  spite  of 
every  evidence  of  his  danger,  entertained  hope  to  the  very  last 
hour  of  his  existence  ! 

At  length  his  doctors  advised  a  removal,  not  only  for  a  change 
of  air,  but  in  order  that  their  patient  might  be  nearer  to  them, 
and  therefore  more  promptly  and  frequently  visited  in  case  of 
necessity.  Even  this  proposition  failed  to  startle  me,  and  I  took 
advantage  of  one  of  his  least  suffering  days  to  convey  the  poor 
invalid  to  a  lodging  in  Plymouth. 

I  am  quite  unequal,  even  at  this  period,  to  recount  the  pro- 


470  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

gress  of  my  dear  husband's  disorder,  and  again  refer  the  reader 
to  Mr.  Wightwick's  faithful  and  interestmg  recital. 

He  several  times  toolc  leave  of  his  family  and  friends  under  the  con- 
viction that  he  was  dying.  On  one  of  these  melancholy  occasions  I 
was  present.  A  paroxysm,  of  frightful  violence,  suddenly  came  on, 
accompanied  by  alarming  faintness.  His  fondness  as  a  husband,  father, 
and  friend,  was  most  affectingly  manifested  in  the  sad  farewell  which  he 
fancied  he  was  then  taking,  and  the  condition  of  his  soul  was  impres- 
sively shown  by  the  prayer  which,  with  uplifted  hands,  he  addressed  to 
his  Maker.  His  surgeon  alone  maintained  his  composure,  and  bade  us 
qualify  our  emotions,  under  the  reasonable  expectation  of  his  getting 
through  this,  as  he  had  through  other  fits  of  equal  violence.  It  was 
impossible,  however,  for  the  unprofessional  mind  to  regard  his  death- 
like struggle  as  less  than  it  seemed  to  be.  The  words  which  he  uttered 
were  of  too  domestic  and  delicate  a  nature  for  publication ;  neither  shall 
I  set  down  the  words  of  his  supplication.  A  preparation  of  ether  was 
administered.  Its  reviving  efi'ect  first  prompted  him  to  question  the 
kindness  which  restores,  only  for  additional  suffering,  a  man  who  had 
resigned  himself  to  death.  In  a  few  moments,  however,  gratitude 
superseded  regret,  and  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour  after  he  had  been  at 
the  worst,  he  was  as  well  as  at  any  time  during  the  last  two  months 
of  his  life. 

He  delighted  in  affording  an  agreeable  surprise  to  his  friends,  as  the 
following  fact  will  show :  —  His  medical  attendants  had  left  him  one 
morning  exceedingly  ill,  and  without  hope  of  his  leaving  his  bed  for  the 
day.  Such  was  their  anxiety  that  they  shortly  repeated  their  visit, 
and  proceeded  immediately,  as  a  matter  of  course,  to  his  bedroom. 
There  he  was,  to  all  appearance,  lying  as  they  left  him,  with  little  more 
than  his  nightcap  visible  above  the  clothes.  In  short,  there  was  nothing 
beneath  them  more  than  a  stuffed  mockery,  for  the  man  himself  had 
arisen,  shaved,  washed,  neatly  dressed  himself,  and  walked  unassisted 
down  stairs  into  the  sitting-room,  where  he  received  his  surprised 
visitors  with  a  significant  "Aha!" 

I  called  upon  him  one  evening,  and  took  the  liberty  of  introducing  a 
I'riend.  During  our  stay  several  visitors  from  time  to  time  came  in. 
It  struck  me  that  Mathews  was  more  than  usually  irritable ;  I  caught 
his  eye,  and  he  beckoned  me  to  a  close  parley — "  I  don't  know  whether 
you  are  aware  of  it,  but  I  have  observed  that  your  friend  has  given  up 
his  seat  successively  to  each  new  comer  since  your  arrival.  He  has  now 
occupied  for  a  moment  every  chair  in  the  room  except  one,  and  I  wish 
you'd  ask  him  to  secure  that,  and  not  suffer  the  next  comer  to  take  it 
irom  him.  It  is  really  hard  upon  him,  because  he  gets  no  thanks,  and 
I  am  sure  he  must  be  tired,  if  it  is  only  from  bobbing  up  and  down. 
You  can't  think  how  it  fidgets  me.  Now,  pray  ask  him  to  sit  down  and 
hold  fast." 

In  the  latter  end  of  June  he  removed  from  the  Victualling-yard  to  a 
lodging-house  in  Lockyer-street,  Plymouth,  where   he  was  within  a 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  471 

short  distance  of  the  Hoe,  so  remarkable  for  its  elevated  promenade  and 
the  noble  prospect  which  it  commands.  To  this  charming  spot  he  was 
several  times  carried  in  a  wheeled  chair,  and  he  would  sit  watching  the 
numerous  vessels  ever  sailing  in  all  directions,  more  particularly  looking 
out  for  the  little  pleasure-boat  of  his  friend  Mr.  Gyles.  He  had  been 
on  three  or  four  successive  occasions  disappointed  in  not  seeing  it,  and 
thwarted  curiosity  was  (as  usual  with  him)  becoming  irksome  beyond 
endurance,  when  positive  "  articles  of  agreement"  were  entei*ed  into  by 
the  respective  parties,  that  each,  at  a  certain  time,  should  be  in  a  certain 
express  locality.  "  Now,  is  that  Gylly's  boat  ?"  said  Mathews  to  Mrs. 
Gyles.  Mrs.  Gyles  could  not  tell.  "  Humph  !  well,  that  is  odd ! 
Here's  a  woman  don't  know  her  husband's  boat."  He,  however,  espied 
the  boat  at  last,  and  watched  it  with  that  ever  lively  and  child-like 
interest  which  constituted  his  success  as  a  sketcher  of  men  and 
manners. 

He  did  not,  like  commoner  men,  "  get  accustomed"  to  things.  His 
extractive  power  was  such  that  it  never  admitted  the  exhaustibility  of  a 
subject  while  the  subject  retained  "  a  local  habitation  and  a  name." 
The  tacks  of  Gyles's  boat  were  with  him  so  many  emblems  of  the  shifts. 
of  men  when  the  winds  of  fortune  and  the  tides  of  circumstance  are  not 
directly  in  their  favour ;  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  Mathews  was  one  of 
those  speculators  who  often  anticipate  from  accidental  metaphor  the 
nature  of  moral  operations. 

I  was  with  him  several  evenings  during  his  stay  in  Lockyer-streot. 
"During  his  stay  in  Lockyer- street !"  How  thoughtlessly  was  that 
last  sentence  penned !  where,  then,  was  the  spot  of  his  next  sojourn  P 
But  I  anticipate  my  conclusion.  It  was  not,  however,  a  hopeless 
thought  that  he  might  yet  be  moved  to  London  a  living  man.  The 
symptoms  of  his  malady  were  in  some  respects  improved,  an  amendment 
chiefly  showing  itself  in  a  more  regular  pulse,  and  the  comparative 
infrequency  of  paroxysms.  He  was  one  evening  enabled  to  take  tea 
with  his  friends  in  full  assemblage,  and  to  give  continual  attention  to 
the  admirable  song  and  guitar  accompaniment  of  his  accomplished  son, 
in  whose  native  talent  and  acquired  grace  he  took,  as  well  he  might,  an 
honest  pride. 

The  evening  alluded  to  was  that  of  his  last  enjoyment.  It 
had  been  arranged  that  Charles  should  go  to  London  the  fol- 
lowing morning,  as  from  the  opinion  of  our  medical  friends  no 
immediate  danger  was  to  be  apprehended  ;  the  same  anxious 
business  that  had  so  often  disturbed  my  husband's  serenity  re- 
quired, as  he  thought,  renewed  attention  ;  moreover,  Charles  had 
some  intention  of  preparing  a  drawing  for  the  new  Houses  of 
Parliament. 

The  dear  invalid  had  not  been  seen  to  smile  for  many  days, — 
nay,  weeks.  On  this  evening  he  was  tranquil,  and  asked  to  hear 
Mr.  Wightwick  and  Charles  play  and  sing  to  the  guitar,  remind- 


472  THE  LIFE  AND   CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

ing  Mr.  Wightwick  of  several  Italian  airs  he  had  formerly  heard 
him  sing,  and  pressing  to  bear  them  again,  alternately  requiring 
Charles  to  amuse  him  in  a  like  manner  by  the  airs  he  loved 
best,  ending  with  his  great  favourite,  "  Jenny  Jones."  As  Charles 
finished  singing  it,  he  observed,  "  Ah  !  I  think  if  I  were  dead, 
that  song  would  restore  me  to  life  !"* 

The  next  morning  Charles  went  to  his  father's  bedside;  found 
him,  as  he  declared  himself,  better;  and  received  his  instructions 
upon  the  several  points  to  which  he  desired  his  son  to  attend  in 
London,  and  Charles  prepared  to  depart.  It  was  remarkable 
that  on  this  occasion  his  father  kissed  him  ! — a  token  of  affec- 
tion which  had  been  discontinued  since  Charles's  childhood,  and 
which  was  not  thought  of  even  in  the  anguish  of  the  separation 
in  1834. 

My  letter  to  Charles  after  his  departure  will  spare  the  painful 
necessity  of  describing  anew  every  part  of  the  progress  of  his 
dear  father's  malady  during  the  period  of  his  absence. 

Plymouth,  June  25th. 
I  anticipate  by  an  hour  the  letter  I  expect  to  receive  from  you, 
announcing,  I  trust,  your  safe  arrival  in  London,  and  I  do  so  in  order 
to  inform  you  of  your  father's  improvement  since  he  awoke  this  morning, 
after  a  quiet  night ;  induced,  it  is  true  by  the  opiate,  yet  succeeded  by  a 
more  hopeful  effect  than  from  any  previous  draught  of  the  kind,  for  he 
has  remained  until  near  five  this  afternoon  without  any  paroxysm,  even 
a  slight  one.  He  determined,  on  finding  himself  free  from  struggles, 
not  to  speak  much  during  the  day,  and  has  written  with  a  pencil  all  he 
wishes,  &c. 

Soon  after  my  husband  awoke  on  this  day  (the  25tli)  he  asked 
briefly  for  pencil  and  paper,  and  as  soon  as  I  took  it  to  him  he 
wrote  as  follows  : — 

"  My  first  desire  is  to  write,  because  I  wish  to  put  on  record  my  own 
impressions, — because  I  think  a  wowo-syllable  creates  about  an  equal 
degree  of  spasmodic  affection,  with  the  exliaustion  of  so  much  breath. 
I  therefore  wish  to-day  to  make  my  will*  by  correspondence,  and 
Grimaldyize  thus.  I  hope  so  far  that  I  can  make  myself  understood  by 
action  for  what  I  want,  as  to  questions  put  by  yes  and  no, — with  mono- 
syllables, with  or  without  paper, — the  rest  by  having  plenty  of  supply. 
Kead  this.     Siiy.     Say  is  it  understood,  and  answer." 

"No.  1,"  was  placed  in  one  corner  of  this  not  altogether  in- 

*  This  ballad,  first  sung  in  public  in  1837  by  Charles,  was  written  by  him 
during  a  sojourn  in  Wales  in  1826,  when  the  character  of  the  air  suggested  the 
words. 

*  Known. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  473 

telligible  intimation.  A  confusion  in  his  mind,  doubtless  from 
the  effects  of  the  opiate,  prevented  his  expressions  being  as  ch^ar 
as  he  intended  ;  but  I  would  not  let  him  perceive  tliat  I  was 
puzzled,  and  therefore  affected  perfectly  to  understand  his  mean- 
ing. He  then  tore  up  a  sheet  of  paper  into  many-sized  pieces, 
and  wrote  upon  tliem  from  time  to  time ;  all  which  I  answered 
verbally.     Some  time  after,  he  put  another  paper  into  my  hand. 

"Continuation  1. 

'*  My  impressions  are,  that  I  took  my  medicine  at  twice  (mejming 
the  night  before),  and  that  after  that  period  I  did  not  awake  until  1  was 
invited  to  coffee,  which  refreshed  me." 

I  confirmed  these  impressions  by  a  brief  affirmative.  After  a 
short  pause  he  again  wrote — 

"  No.  2.  Already  I  succeed, — God  be  praised,  I  have  not  yet  had  a 
slight  spasm." 

After  another  pause  and  some  sleep,  he  from  time  to  time 
during  the  day  put  the  following  scraps  into  my  hands : — 

"Three  o'clock, — awoke.  Still  success.  Has  Magrath*  been? — 
does  he  approve  ?" 

"  When  did  I  see  Harrisf  last  ?" 

"  Shaving  materials." 

"  No  more  coffee." 

"  What's  o'clock  ?" 

Letter  continued. — He  has  contrived  to  shave  and  wash.  These 
operations  have  occupied  a  great  part  of  his  waking  periods  ;  but  it  is 
much  to  have  done.  He  has  not  before  even  attempted  it  since  you 
went ;  and  has  neither  refreshed  himself  with  water  nor  fresh  linen  ; 
even  to-day  he  has  not  been  able  to  accomplish  the  latter  comfort,  being 
too  fatigued  with  what  he  has  done  to  allow  me  to  trouble  him  with  any 
other  effort;  yet  I  am  cheered  with  this  day's  progress.  He  has  broken 
sometimes  through  his  La  Trappe  system  upon  sudden  impulse.  I  am 
satisfied  that  he  is  much  better;  his  legs,  which  have  been  bandaged, 
are  smaller — much  smaller;  and  when  I  tell  you  that  this  is  the  first 
day  since  Sunday  that  he  has  been  inclined  to  take  nourishment,  and 
that  he  has  had  two  cups  of  coffee  and  one  of  broth,  besides  two  small 
slices  of  bread  and  butter,  eaten  with  something  like  appetite,  you  will, 
I  hope,  be  comtbrted  as  I  am. 

I  assure  you,  my  dearest  Charles,  all  has  been  gloom  since  you  went. 
1  have  repented  your  going  more  than  once,  and  feared  seriously  and 
hourly  the  necessity  of  recalling  you.  Your  father  one  morning  re- 
proached his  doctors  (or  "  allowing  that  poor  boy  to  leave  him,"  saying, 
he  should  not  outlive  the  day ;  indeed  he  was  very  bad.  He  is  now 
certainly  looking  much  clearer,  and  his  eyes  are  bright  and  full. 

A.M. 

*  Sir  George  Magrath,  his  physician.  +  His  surgeon. 


474  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

The  next  morning,  June  26th,  he  took  his  pencil  as  soon  he 
awoke,  and  wrote  as  follows :  JBulletin. — Thursday  [it  was 
Friday],  28th,  my  birthday.  Fifty-nine  !  ! !  Calm  and  beau- 
tiful night :"  adding,  verbally,  "  you  always  forget  my  birthday  !" 
I  told  him  he  was  mistaken,  that  his  birthday  was  not  till 
Sunday;  and  that  "this  was  only  the  26th."  He  considered  a 
little,  and  then  mqved  his  head  in  acknowledgment  of  his  mis- 
take. In  this  manner,  without  much  variation,  he  went  on  till 
Saturday  the  27th.  He  awoke  on  that  morning  with  a  placid 
countenance ;  and  in  answer  to  my  usual  inquiries,  said,  at  in- 
tervals (as  he  had  recently  felt  obliged  to  speak),  "Oh  !  I  have 
had  such  beautiful  visions  1 — such  lovely,  heavenly  visions  !  I 
wish  some  imaginative  poet,  like  Coleridge,  or  Shelley,  could 
hear  what  I  have  seen,  what  a  beautiful  account  he  would  give 
of  it!     0,  such  heavenly  visions  !" 

(May  this  not  have  been  a  foretaste  of  what  he  was  soon  to 
enjoy  for  ever  ? — I  am  happy  in  so  believing.)  I  observed  to 
him  how  well  he  looked  (he  had  put  on,  with  great  difficulty, 
a  change  of  linen) — nay,  that  his  appearance  was  youthful; 
and  so  fresh  ! — his  complexion  was  glowing  and  his  eyes  bright. 
I  placed  it  all  to  the  account  of  his  "  beautiful"  night  and  sweet 
dreams.  I  told  him,  playfully,  "  that  he  looked  quite  handsome." 
To  my  surprise  and  pleasure  he  replied,  with  a  smile,  imitating 
the  tones  and  manner  of  John  Kemble,  "  Go,  go,  you  little  flat- 
terer!" 1  approached  him  with  tears  of  joy  at  this  unwonted 
sally,  saying,  how  happy  he  had  made  me  by  this  cheerfulness ; 
but  the  very  act  of  moving  quickl}^  towards  him — the  slight 
agitation  of  the  air  occasioned  by  it — affected  his  breathing, 
and  he  looked  alarmed.  I  kissed  his  head,  instead  of  his  cheek, 
therefore ;  and  afterwards  placed  a  looking-glass  upon  the  bed, 
in  order  to  .show  him  his  improvement.  He  deliberately  looked 
into  it,  and,  with  affected  vanity,  held  up  his  hands  and  eyes 
in  pretended  admiration  of  his  own  beauty ;  and  I  was  all 
delight  and  hope. 

After  this,  the  person  who  was  latterly  employed  to  rub  his 
legs  daily  (my  strength  proving  unequal  to  the  force  re- 
quired), entered  the  room,  and  I  perceived  from  the  window  a 
pretty  white  pony  whick  he  had  left  there.  I  questioned  him 
as  to  its  safety  and  strength,  and  planned,  in  the  hearing  of 
the  dear  sufferer,  to  hire  it  as  soon  as  he  was  strong  enough 
to  mount  it  far  exercise^  which  1  augured  he  would  soon  be. 
He  fixed  his  bright  eyes  upon  me,  but  without  any  particular 
meaning  that  I  could  understand,  and  I  was  full  of  the  cou- 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  475 

fidence  which  his  improved  appearance  gave  me,  that  a  very 
few  days  more  would  find  him  in  progress  towards  recovery. 
In  the  course  of  the  afternoon,  he  suddenly  asked,  in  a  tone 
like  assertion  rather  than  a  question,  "  Broderip  has  got  my 
will  ?"  I  paused,  for  I  had  never  heard  of  one  since  that  made 
when  he  went  first  to  America,  and  of  which  I  now  knew 
nothing;  I  thought  it  best  to  answer,  "  Oh  !  yes."  He  nodded 
his  head,  and  seemed  satisfied.*  In  the  evening  he  relapsed 
into  his  usual  state,  and  I  wrote  the  following  letter  to  Charles, 
who  had  been  detained  in  town  longer  than  he  wished  by  indis- 
position : — 

June  27th. 

Your  father  remains  in  the  same  state  as  when  I  wrote  last,  not 
better ;  and  this  is  what,  perhaps,  checks  my  exultation  as  to  his  im- 
provement within  the  last  three  days.  It  seems  to  me  unnatural,  that 
when  pronounced  free  from  present  symptoms  of  a  dangerous  character, 
no  gradual  strength  is  to  be  discovered.  He  has  this  morning  made 
an  effort  (really  a  great  one,  poor  sutferer,  it  lias  been),  and  succeeded 
in  changing  his  linen. 

Last  night  a  violent  cough  came  on,  after  he  was  settled  for  the 
night.  This  recurred  frequently, — expectoration  always  followed  it 
with  difficulty.  This  I  mentioned  to  Sir  George  and  Mr.  Harris  to- 
day, and  my  spirits  are  much  damped  by  the  gravity  of  their  manner 
when  1  gave  the  information.  Sir  George  waited,  in  order  to  hear  the 
cough  and  see  the  nature  of  what  he  brought  off  his  chest,  and  when 
he  saw  it  his  words  were  not  explicit  to  me  about  it.  I  am  easily  cast 
down  in  my  present  state,  and,  perhaps,  unnecessarily  take  alarm.  The 
dear  patient  certainly  looks  better,  and  his  paroxysms  are  not  only 
"  short,"  but  "  far  between"  and  fainter,  yet  there  is  no  increase  of 
appetite.  His  opiate  is  gradually  made  weaker,  and  yet  he  sleeps  well. 
His  head  is  sometimes  wild,  and  he  is  very  visionary.  He  asked  me 
to  read  the  Bible  to  him  on  Thursday,  and  yesterday  I  offered  to  do  so 
again ;  but,  after  listening  a  few  minutes  he  said,  "  It  is  a  mockery — 
my  head  is  too  confused  to  understand  it."  I  placed  the  book  by  his 
bedside,  and  when  I  returned  I  found  him  reading  it.  After  this  he 
seemed  trying  to  find  some  place,  and  tui-ned  over  the  leaves  confusedly. 
Seeing  this,  I  said,  "  Do  you  want  the  New  Testament  ?  let  me  find 
it  for  you  "  He  patted  my  hand  gently,  as  it  touched  the  book,  saying, 
with  a  half  stnile,  "  I  knew  how  to  read  the  Bible  before  you  were 
born,"  and  I  desisted. 

He  asks  every  morning,  and  again  at  night,  about  your  letter,  so 
write  something  every  day  till  you  return,  as  it  Ls  clear  you  must  soon 
do ;   for   our  removal  is,  alas !   distant,  I  believe.     Your  father  can 

*  It  proved  that  no  other  will  than  that  of  1822  had  ever  been  made,  or 
even  spoken  about  to  his  legal  friend.  This  was  afterwards  found,  after  a  long 
search,  amongst  his  business  papers  in  London. 


476  THE  LIFE  AND   COilRESPONDENGE  OF 

scarcely  bt'ar  the  fsitigue  of  getting  up  into  the  easy  chair,  and  he  is  in 
perpetual  perspiration  from  debility — sleeping,  certainly,  twenty  hours 
<jut  of  the  twenty-four.  He  docs  not  wish  to  see  anybody,  and  there- 
fore I  allow  only  the  doctors  to  enter  his  room.  I  seldom  leave  the 
apartment,  or  the  view  of  him  from  the  next  room  with  the  folding- 
doors  open ;  indeed,  he  cannot  bear  me  to  be  absent  a  moment,  and 
when  I  began  this  letter  requested  me  to  sit  where  he  could  see  me.  I 
was  not  well  yesterday,  and  all  night  I  feared  I  should  be  worse.  To- 
morrow will  be  your  dear  father's  birthdaj'-,  when,  he  has  reminded  me, 
his  age  will  be  fifty-nine.  He  says,  if  I  should  be  ill,  he  should  sink 
immediately.     He  talks  of  you  in  the  most  affectionate  words. 

A.M. 

Past  nine  o'clock. — Your  father  seems  really  improved  since  the 
morning,  and  more  collected ;  his  cough  has  not  recurred  oftener  than 
six  times  to-day.  He  says  you  must  write  on  Monday,  and  say  when 
you  think  of  being  here  again,  and  wait  for  our  reply  before  you  take 
your  place.  I  must  not  ask  him  why  he  wishes  this ;  but  do  you 
adhere  to  his  wish. 

Before  v^riting  the  postscript  of  this  letter,  my  husband  had 
got  up  and  seen  a  visitor  (Mr.  Jacobson,  one  of  the  gifted  "  Blue 
Friars,"  who  had  just  arrived  from  London).  He  appeared, 
indeed,  much  better,  and  only  complained  of  his  legs  being  cold. 
In  the  course  of  the  evening  1  found  my  spasmodic  complaint 
increasing,  and  fearing  it  might  be  observed  and  distress  him,  or 
incapacitate  me  from  attending  him,  about  twelve  o'clock  I 
approached  him,  and  kissing  his  head,  said,  "  I  want  you  to  go 
to  bed  now."  He  closed  the  Bible  which  he  had  been  reading, 
and,  looking  up  at  me,  without  his  usual  request  to  be  allowed  to 
remain  up  longer,  replied  meekly,  "I  am  ready." 

About  a  quarter-past  twelve  he  was  again  in  bed.  I  had 
completed  all  the  customary  arrangements  in  silence,  and  by  the 
physician's  order  diluted  his  night-draught  with  water,  and  seen 
him  drink  it,  when  he  gave  me  the  kiss  which  said  "  good  night," 
and  I  withdrew  to  the  other  part  of  the  room,  divided  by  folding- 
doors,  which,  left  ajar,  afforded  me  the  means  of  hearing  the 
slightest  sound  or  intimation  that  he  wished  my  presence.  For 
though  he  was  uneasy  during  the  whole  day,  if  I  was  not  con- 
tinually near  him,  he  had  latterly — doubtless  from  humane  con- 
sideration for  me,  finding  my  eyes  always  upon  him  during  the 
night,  declared  he  could  not  sleep  unless  my  sofa  was  away  from 
his  view.  His  little  favourite,  Fop,  who  could  never  be  re- 
moved from  the  side  of  the  bed,  unless  by  force,  was  always 
carried  with  me,  lest  his  breathing  should  disturb  his  master's 
rest. 

I  listened,  as  I  was  in  the  habit  of  doing,  for  some  time  at 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  477 

the  open  part  of  the  door,  until  I  ascertained  that  the  dear 
sufferer  was  asleep,  and  then  threw  myself  upon  my  sofa.  On 
this  night  "  tired  Nature"  must  have  sunk  for  some  minutes  into 
a  half-unconseiousness,  for  a  sudden  spring  of  tlie  little  animal 
towards  the  folding-doors  fearfully  roused  me  to  the  hearing  of 
an  unusual  sound  in  the  next  room.  1  instantly  rushed  forward, 
and  as  1  reached  the  foot  of  the  bed,  1  missed  the  form  I  sought. 
He  had  fallen  from  the  bed-chair,  which  always  supported  l)im, 
pn  to  the  side  of  the  bed.  I  endeavoured  to  lift  his  head,  which 
hung  down,  and  replace  him,  but  he  was  too  heavy  for  me,  even 
in   the  energy  of   my  despair,  to  raise. — Oh !    my  dear,  dear 

husband  ! 1  knew  not  how  they  were  summoned,  but  I  found 

the  bed  soon  surrounded  by  his  physicians  and  other  pitying 
spectators  of  my  agony,  as  I  held  the  dear  inanimate  remains  in 
my  arms,  till  I  was  at  length  conscious  that  all  hope  was  vain, 
and  that  my  best  and  dearest  friend  was  gone  for  ever ! 

I  was  then  led  away,  (oh !  that  separation !)  upon  being 
assured  by  the  kind  physicians  that  the  final  pang  had  been 
momentary.  I  believed  what  I  was  told,  for  everything  near 
him  was  as  I  left  it :  the  hand-bell  (which  he  would  have  sounded 
had  he  been  previously  conscious  of  a  change)  was  unmoved,  the 
smelling-bottle,  Bible,  all,  all  as  I  had  placed  them ;  the  only- 
indication  of  voluntary  action  was  the  position  of  ^  shawl  which 
he  always  spread  over  his  bosom  when  he  lay  back  to  rest. 
This  shawl  was  found  thrust  under  his  waistcoat  in  a  heap,  next 
to  his  heart.* 

"  I  am  ready !"  Memorable  words !  They  were  his  last,  and 
they  recurred  to  me,  as  I  was  taken  from  him,  in  a  twofold  sense, 
and  ought,  in  some  degree,  to  have  tempered  the  anguish  of  the 
tinae,  which 

Nipped  not  the  life,  but  the  heart. 

Even  at  this  remote  period  I  feel  myself  so  unfit  to  dwell  upon 
the  mournful  particulars  of  the  event,  that  I  am  induced  once 
more  to  borrow  from  the  expressive  pen  which  has  before 
been  a  resource  in  this  most  melancholy  and  painful  portion  of 
my  task. 

Mr.  Wightwick  continues  his  account  as  follows ; — 

He  only  lived  half  an  hour  into  his  birthday ;  a  day  which,  having 
reason  to  be  proud  of  the  being  whom  it  had  ushered  into  life,  claimed 
the  privilege   of  "lighting  him  to  dusky  death."     The  sad   duty  of 

*  During  the  latter  part  of  his  confinement,  he  wore  a  black  velvet  waist- 
coat under  a  dressing-gown,  when  in  bed,  lying  without  any  other  covering 
upon  his  chest  and  arms. 


478  THE  LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF 

preparing  for  his  funeral  devolved  on  his  long-attached  friend,  Mr. 
Henry  Gyles;  and,  on  Friday  morning,  the  3rd  of  July,  bis  remains 
were  consigned  to  the  tomb.  All  honours  that  could  be  offered  on  the 
occasion  were  proudly,  not  less  than  feelingly  paid,  and  such  a  general 
sympathy  was  awakened,  as  really  seemed  to  betoken  a  national  loss. 
The  rank,  intellect,  and  respectability  of  the  three  towns  of  Devonport, 
Stonehouse,  and  Plymouth,  were  satisfactorily  represented  b}^  the  pall- 
bearers and  the  numerous  gentlemen  who  attended.  The  officiating 
clergy  of  the  parish  and  the  churchwardens  manifested  a  gentleness  of 
attention  which  will  not  be  forgotten.  The  organist  accompanied  the 
deceased  comedian  to  the  grave  with  the  most  solemn  tones  of  sacred 
harmony ;  and  he  was  lowered  into  his  tomb  amid  the  heavy  sighs  and 
irrepressible  tears — not  of  the  chief  mourner  only.  During  the  pro- 
cession the  streets  were  lined  with  spectators,  yet  not  a  sound  M''as  to  be 
heard,  and  the  church  was  found  crowded  in  every  part  by  sympathising 
spectators. 

Such  was  the  affecting  end  of  "  dear  Charles  Mathews,"  as  the 
feeling  Coleridge  designated  him.  Had  he  died  in  London,  friends 
more  numerous,  "  trappings  of  woe"  more  pompous,  and  a  train  more 
theatrical,  would  doubtless  have  attended  on  his  exit;  but  nowhere 
could  he  have  been  followed  by  friends  more  affectionate,  nor  waited  on 
by  ceremonies  more  truly  suitable  and  decent  than  at  Plymouth.  Even 
the  day  seemed  to  take  a  part  in  the  duties  of  the  occasion  ;  it  rained 
until  the  mournful  procession  began  to  move  forward,  when  it  suddenly 
became  dry.  Still,  however,  veiling  itself  from  the  sun  until  the  return 
of  the  mourners  from  the  church,  when  the  clouds  were  partially 
dispelled,  and  a  gleam  of  sober  cheerfulness  admitted. 

He  lies  in  a  vault  in  the  western  vestibule  of  the  fine  old  church  of 
St.  Andrew  at  Plymouth.  A  man  so  interwoven  with  the  public  should 
be  in  such  a  place  interred.  Hundreds  weekly  pass  his  tonib  in  their 
way  to  prepare  for  that  last  home  to  which  they  are  also  hastening ; 
and  the  verger  who  points  out  the  interesting  spot  to  the  stranger, 
testifies  the  words  of  the  pathetic  Tristram — "  not  a  passenger  goes 
by  without  stopping  to  cast  a  look  upon  it,  and  sighing,  as  he  walks  on, 

Alas,  poor  Yorick  !" 
A  brief  while  longer,  I  cannot  help  lingering  over  his  grave,  for  I 
knew  him  as  a  man ;  you,  perhaps,  only  as  an  actor.  I  had  oppor- 
tunities of  observing  his  scrupulous  integrity ;  his  affectionate  and 
grateful  attachment  to  those  who  loved  him ;  his  forgiving  generosity 
towards  those  who  had  wronged  him ;  and,  more  than  all,  his  Christian 
resignation  when  threatened  by  the  death  which  has  since  laid  him  low. 

And  now  adieu  for  ever  !  Adieu,  Charles  Mathews !  for  the  many 
hours  of  innocent  and  instructive  amusement  thou  hast  afforded,  we 
proffer  our  gratitude ;  for  thy  purity  of  mind  and  unsullied  integrity, 
our  admiration ;  for  thy  warmth  of  heart,  our  love ;  for  thy  loss,  our 
deep  sorrow ! 

The  concluding  local  notices  in  relation  to  the  "last  scene 
of  all,"  which  ends  this  sad  "  eventful  history,"  are  from  othei* 
hands,  and  contain  particulars  of  the  last  mournful  ceremonies. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS.  479 

To  the  Rev.  Thomas  Speidell. 

Plymouth,  July  1st,  1835. 

My  deae  Sik, — You  have  doubtless  received  intelli<jence  of  the 
mournful  event  which  has  depressed  the  hearts  of  all  who  ever  were 
acquainted  with  Mathews.  He  died  soon  after  midnight  on  the 
morning  of  his  fifty-ninth  birthday ;  and  as  soon  as  his  new-made 
widow  could  compose  her  mind  sufficiently  to  name  the  persons  who 
were  first  to  be  informed  of  the  event,  I  was  instructed  to  write  several 
letters,  and  amongst  them,  of  course,  one  to  his  affectionate  friend,  Mr. 
Speidell  ;  but,  from  some  inadvertency,  which  it  is  now  vain  to  explain, 
and  which  might  only  impugn  my  own  discretion,  your  letter  escaped 
my  attention,  and  it  only  remains  for  me  to  express  my  regret  that  you 
should  have  been  left  to  form  a  suspicion  of  neglect  when  you  had  so 
prominent  a  claim  to  consideration.  This  lapse  of  attention  gives  me, 
however,  an  opportunity  of  informing  you  how  greatly  the  memory  of 
our  friend  is  honoured  in  this  distant  part  of  England.  The  Port 
Admiral,*  the  Lieutenant-Governor  General,  Sir  Willoughby  Cotton, 
the  Commissioners  of  the  Dockyard  and  of  the  Victualling-yard  ;t  Col. 
Abernethie,  the  Commandant  of  the  Marines ;  the  Commandant  of 
Engineers,  Sir  George  Whitmore ;  the  Mayor,  and  the  Recorder,  are  to 
be  his  pall-bearers ;  and  he  is  to  be  interred  in  a  vault  under  the 
vestibule  of  St.  Andrew's  Church,  Plymouth,  on  Friday  next. 

Mrs.  Mathews  continues  in  a  very  afflicted  state,  and  poor  Charles  is 
not  in  a  way  to  afford  her  more  consolation  than  arises  out  of  his 
presence,  and  a  firm  conviction  of  the  great  deliverance  which  it  has 
pleased  Almighty  God  to  grant  to  his  afflicted  father. 

I  have  the  honour  to  be,  dear  Sir,  yours  sincerely, 

Henry  Gyles. 

His  funeral,  which  took  place  on  Friday  morning  last,  was,  in  its 
character,  most  grateful  to  his  afflicted  survivors  and  honourable  to  the 
town.  Not  a  follower  was  there  unprompted  by  feelings  of  affection  or 
respect,  nor  was  there  one  who  wore  the  mourner's  garb  unmoved  by  a 
mourner's  sorrow. 

The  friends  of  the  deceased  having  assembled  at  the  house  of  Mr.  H. 
Gyles,  in  Windsor-terrace,  proceeded  to  Lockyer-street,  where  the  corpse 
remained,  and  the  procession  moved  onwards  to  St.  Andrew's  Church 
in  the  following  order : — 

Conductors,  &c. — Rev.  R.  Luney ;  Rev.  C.  J.  Smith ;  Sir  George 
Magrath,  M.D.  j  W.  S.  Harris,  Esq.,  surgeon ;  J.  C.  Cookworthy,  Esq., 
M.D. 

Efje  Botig. 

Pall-bearers. 

Chief  Mourner — C.  J.  Mathews,  Esq.,  supported  on  either  side  by 
Capt.  Tincombe  and  H.  Gyles,  Esq. 

Mourners — F.  Brady,  Esq.;  J.  Franklin,  Esq.;  W.  Jacobson,  Esq.; 
George  Wightwick,  Esq. 

*  Sir  William  Hargood.  f  Captain  Ross  and  Captain  Hornby. 


480       LIFE  AND  CORRESPONDENCE  OF  CHARLES  MATHEWS. 

Numerouii  friends  and  admirers  of  the  deceased. 

The  procession  was  closed  by  the  carriages  of  Admiral  Sir  W.  Har- 
good,  General  Sir  Willoughby  Cotton,  and  Colonel  Abernethie. 

The  churchwardens  of  St.  Andrew's,  Messrs.  Bone  and  Linnington, 
evinced  every  possible  kindness  and  attention  in  their  department,  and 
the  organist,  Mr.  Drewitt,  proved  the  truth  of  Cowper's  line,  "  There  is 
in  souls  a  sympathy  with  sounds."  The  "  Dead  March  in  Saul  "  was 
the  piece  most  appropriately  selected  to  accompany  the  body  to  its  final 
resting-place,  and  the  most  important  of  the  hour's  solemn  duties  was 
impressively  fulfilled  by  the  Rev.  J.  C.  Smith,  assisted  by  Mr.  Luney, 
the  curate  of  Sit.  Andrew's  Chapel. 

The  vault  is  situate  in  the  central  thoroughfare  of  the  western  vesti- 
bule of  St,  Andrew's  Church,  where  a  stone  slab  announces,  with 
admirable  simplicity,  the  last  home  of  "  Charles  Mathews,  comedian, 
born  28th  June,  1776,  died  28th  June,  1835." 

Mrs.  Mathews  and  Mr.  C.  J.  Mathews  (the  widow  and  son  of  the 
deceased)  have  left  Plymouth,  on  a  visit  to  Endsleigh-cottage,  nnost 
feelingly  offered  for  their  occupation  by  its  noble  proprietors,  the  Duke 
and  Duchess  of  Bedford. 

HIS   MONUMENT. 

{From  a  Plymouth  Paper,  August  4M,  1838.) 
We  cannot  but  unite  with  our  local  contemporaries,  in  alluding  with 
much  gratification  to  the  monumental  tablet  which  has  been  recently 
erected  in  the  vestibule  of  St.  Andrew's  Church  to  the  memory  of  the 
great  comedian.  To  the  celebrity  of  the  deceased  we  must  of  course 
attribute  the  peculiar  interest  which  attaches  to  the  "  marble  marked 
with  his  name,"  whatever  may  be  due  to  Mr.  Wightwick,  its  designer, 
or  to  Mr.  Brown  who  has  so  creditably  executed  it. 

It  is  in  the  Gothic  style  (as  all  monuments  in  Gothic  churches  ought 
to  be),  and  derives  no  small  portion  of  its  good  effect  from  the  admirable 
jX)sition  which  has  been  awarded  to  it  by  the  Rev.  Vicar  and  the  Church- 
warden, Mr.  Bone.     The  inscription  on  the  tablet  is  as  follows : — 

"  Near  this  spot  are  deposited  the  honoured  remains  of 
Chaeles  Mathews, 

Comedian. 
Born  28th  June,  1776. 
Died  28th  June,  1835. 

Not  to  commemorate  that  genius  which  his  country  acknowledged  and 
rewarded,  and  men  of  every  nation  confessed;  nor  to  record  the  worth 
which  secured  the  respect  and  attachment  of  his  many  admirers  and 
friends ;  but  as  an  humble  tribute  to  his  devoted  unvarying  affection 
and  indulgence,  as  a  husband  and  father,  this  tablet  is  erected  in  sor- 
rowing love  and  grateful  remembrance  by  his  bereaved  wife  and  son." 


THE   END. 


A^ 


■M 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below, 
or  on  the  date  to  which  renewed.  Renewals  only: 

Tel.  No.  642-3405 
Renewals  may  be  made  4  days  ijrior  to  date  due. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 

■ECTJ'lO   SEP    173-4PM#S 


t;sTERl.!SRAr.Y  LOA^i 


L^AY  '- 


-  1930 


UNIV.  Of  CAl  iF..  iSERK- 


BflStOitJUHl '   .'J 


r  N     /     '■;  o  o  ^ 


TTkoiA    in»v,   Q  "7q  General  Library 

^R^i?02^roH^6M'31  Univershy^of^California